*Warning this poem may be triggering to some. Reader discretion is advised*

They tell me to eat

but that's my fear.

Not the food itself, no,

what the food does.

Enlarging my stomach

adding layers of fat

that I didn't ask for.

What do they think,

when they see me eat?

As I finish the plate

I wonder,

what would they say?

What do they think

seeing my bulging

stomach.

Maybe I shouldn't.

I'll skip the meal,

make the deal.

Now I'll be skinny.

I'll starve to death,

but I'll die skinny.