It's what I think about every minute of the day,
In the car, during physics; "It's dangerous," they say.
In the morning, at school, in the bathroom, in bed,
"You'll fail. You're a failure," is all my mind said.
Nothing else matters. No one needs to know.
The truth lags behind, justifications echo.
To the one who knows the truth, I can only lie.
Avoiding my problems seems only benign.
To those who love me most, I appear the same.
No control seen, no force to be tamed.
They know nothing, eyes shut to the obvious.
In a crowd, I'm alone, just as my body is.
No one understands. I have created my own hell.
Suffering malnutrition, I am breaking. Ring the bells.
My body looks no different, I observe it night and day.
I wish the mirror could read what the scale has to say.
I am anorexic, if you're going by the book.
But I can tell no one, not with the way I look.
I am still fat, and I'm afraid I will always be.
I am alone. I just want someone to see.