Recovery


No more faking, instead constant belly aching
Organs sore, I feel like a bore
They say keep fighting, soon you will soar
But it’s not that easy always feeling queasy

Fluid retention, feels like a suspension
Stomach bloating, I wish I was floating
I miss feeling light, instead I’m filled with fright
Hip bones, where are you? Oh, how I miss your sight

Bones, Bones, Bones
Oh, the lovely grasp of a hip
Now, I don’t even want to take that trip

Frail, stale, and bare
Oh, how I enjoyed the stare

Who’s to say it wasn’t meant to be?
Sometimes, I even felt free

Yes, most of the time I felt caged
But that was okay because it controlled societies’ rage

Numbers kept dropping
“Keep going!” I pleaded. No stopping

But that’s when it started

Body so weak, it was painful to walk
Brain so fogged, couldn’t even talk
Bladder so weak, I couldn’t control the leak

Embarrassing, I know
Anorexia throwing me to and fro

EKG said maybe another week
And then I would meet my peak

Peak being death
One last breath

Heart beat creeping closer and closer to a straight line
Isn’t that a horrible fine?

In denial that I was ill
Maybe all I needed was a pill

Doctor said eat or face defeat

Even though my body was losing
My mind convinced me that I was winning

Less food equaled more control
More control resulted in me looking more like a pole

But that’s what I wanted
Now I’m feeling taunted

Have to continue to gain weight
So that my organs can be in a positive state

Crying at dinner is exhausting, especially when desert has frosting

Recovery cannot be explained unless you are going through it
Unless you have been face to face with death

Ready to steal your breath.

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