No matter what

It always haunts me,

Like a shadow

That’s always watching.

No matter what

The mirror still shows

What seems to be a pig in clothes.

No matter what

It’s always waiting,

Like a painter

Never done painting.

And no matter what

The movie still shows

A character

Who’s never fitting her clothes.

The number goes up,

Then it goes down,

And the shadow that’s watching

Seems to always frown.

Why so much food?

It always asks.

It’s not trying to be rude,

But the tone always lacks.

Why so much worry?

It doesn’t know.

It just consumes me,

Always ordering to go.

The food mocks me,

Much like the shadow.

It’s laughing,

And the laugh foreshadows

The pain and the suffering,

Always forgone,

Like ugly flowers

Sitting in a lawn.

Like weeds that need to be pulled out,

Like grass that needs to be cut,

The whispers of the shadow

Just never shut up.

So no matter what,

It will always haunt me,

Like the image

Of the food scoffing.

The shadow,

The pig,

The painter—

All at once—

Is just enough

To make a heart crunch.

The mirror,

The number,

The food’s stupid laugh—

Is just enough

To make a person crash.

That’s why it stays,

Haunting its victims,

Like the music that plays

In those moronic food systems.

You can never escape it.

It’s always there.

So don’t be scared

When you’re not the same person

Sitting in your chair.

For it’s not always a bad thing,

But it’s very much not good.

So maybe it stays,

But it doesn’t get the throne.

It can speak if it wants—

I don’t have to listen alone.

I am more than the mirror,

More than the number,

More than the noise,

More than a shadow

That mistakes fear for a voice.

It’s not something pretty.

It’s not something fair.

But I’m still here breathing,

Still learning to care.

And even if it follows,

It won’t write how I live—

Because I am not what it takes.

I am what I give.