(possible Trigger Waring: themes lf eating disorderes)
I despise my own image, and yet I fail to change.
I can make a final decision to alter myself
I cut my hair
I starve myself
I exercise untill I pass out
But I still fail to change.
I can not escape my own image
A manifestation of my past self still leaves a dark lustre over what I try to become
Haunting my present self
Whispering in my ear
It's the devils twisted tongue
presenting his vile words as a charming Melody
Although his facade is seen though
The bird song still soaks between
What is reality
And what is past
No matter how hard I attempt to change, the rotting corpse of my former self still finds a way to haunt me.
YOU ARE READING
Peach Pit
Non-FictionI guess this is a vent book It has notes of poetry but it's bad I'm trying to better myself as a writer but I'm dyslexic and bad at expressing things so it's hard, but I want to push myself to create something im at least a little proud of
