i look down at the floor
but my thighs bulge out instead
i place at my rounded stomach
the side of it stained red
i quickly look away
and pull my top down quick
i run to the bathroom
ready to be sick
i shove my finger down my throat
tears roll down my cheeck
i splutter over the toilet
and silently i weep
i feel almost empty
as i flush the mess away
putting in a smile
its just like any other day...
YOU ARE READING
is it still a joke now?
PoetryThe utter most inner thoughts and feelings of one who has but no other way to express them and therefore without a pen a paper she very much may spontaneously combust in an explosion of secrets bottled up for far far too long. : )
