To Be Bulimic as a Justification for Indulgences
How vile my intentions and justifications!
Eat up, sister, the lies of perfection flaunted on the television!
Eat up and up until you throw up and up.
Until you cry and bleed from your smallest pours.
'How sweet the taste of bile!' says your mind to your tongue.
Stop and run!
Make haste opposite your stumbling blocks,
for you cannot handle anything even with grace.
Your sweet head is spinning and pounding the longer your fingers grow and reach and stretch.
How refreshing is the water splashing in your hair while bent about the only bowl you would not eat from?
Close your eyes and cry.
Shake and wale and pound your fists for the taste of bile is nothing but vile!
Evacuate yourself as if you lived on the gulf in the month of September.
Take Refuge from the storm of obsession.
Hide away in the Refuge of Stability, Grace, and Self-Control.
Eat up, sister, the lies of perfection flaunted on the television!
Eat up and up until you throw up and up.
Until you cry and bleed from your smallest pours.
'How sweet the taste of bile!' says your mind to your tongue.
Stop and run!
Make haste opposite your stumbling blocks,
for you cannot handle anything even with grace.
Your sweet head is spinning and pounding the longer your fingers grow and reach and stretch.
How refreshing is the water splashing in your hair while bent about the only bowl you would not eat from?
Close your eyes and cry.
Shake and wale and pound your fists for the taste of bile is nothing but vile!
Evacuate yourself as if you lived on the gulf in the month of September.
Take Refuge from the storm of obsession.
Hide away in the Refuge of Stability, Grace, and Self-Control.