90 CaloriesA Poem by gypsyroseThe box had said 90 per serving. I’m not hungry, ‘cause see, I’ve been learning that food is just dirty, it’s sick, and it’s hurts me and I know that one day it will destroy me. I will be skipping my meals without doubt because I’ve waited so long for these bones to come out and I’m not jeopardizing it now. But honestly, inside of me there will always be a small degree of hope that this won’t guarantee disease. Then, wow! The pounds! They keep decreasing, they came, they stayed, and now they’re leaving, I brainwashed myself to keep believe nothing good with come from eating. I’m a self-diagnosed gross f*****g ghost now it’s too late, I’ve been exposed, I’ve come too close… .I just wishes I had some pride as my awareness hides inside my thighs, but I can’t pretend to be surprised, as if my a*s is the one who can’t decide which size it wants to fit inside…. and now everyone is loving me or judging me, you must be thinking, “I just can’t believe this girl is so naïve , it seems to be she’s either being mean by blatantly mocking a disease, or somehow she’s pleased to see that we’ve perceived her deepest screams as poetry.” Whatever you’re thinking is fine with me. Just know this; While you sit there deciding what truly lies beneath the rhyming I will continue to imply things by disguise it as writing. © 2012 gypsyroseReviews
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1 Review Added on October 17, 2012 Last Updated on October 17, 2012 Author
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