Milk.

Love between an individual and an eating disorder victim.

One, two...

I know this feeling all too-

Well, and you if can not-

Tell, when you scream how ill-

You feel when you look at me. 

I really don't mean to lock myself in the bathroom, you see...

But I really don't understand how you can see me-

The way that you do. 

It is not something I desire to lose,

Just confused.

So we scream and we scream, 

As intense as a teenager's wet dream.

You insist it should not be too hard-

Just take out your trump card. 

But it is not that way, dearest. 

My bones are as fragile as china,

As delicate as a homeless kitten,

And as pure as the morning sun. 

This is not something I would endorse, 

But a lot of despair awakens with divorce. 

This is not something I would recommend, 

She is waiting in the shadows, not a friend.