On the cover, there is a blonde bleached horror with eyes of sadness, yet a body to die for. Many flushes, rock hard abs, gum disease, stringy falling out hair, and legs, oh those run way legs. All for the excitement of a hungry tummy that craves greasy foods, but is fed dry lettice and water. She is brought out by a demand inside, which lays beneath her bones.
Reason for writing:
Many of my friends are anorexic or bulemic. I don't deal
well with talking about thing, so I started to write.
Many of my friends blammed it on the media, and the way
they portray the perfect body to look like.
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Kelly (Aries).