i'm the crazy one? ME?

they don't understand and they won't ever
you can talk all you want but words are just words
they don't want us to die, they can't see how its worth it
i'm sure if i wasn't FUCKED in the HEAD i'd agree with them
but alas they seem to be the crazy ones to me
the ones forcing pills down my throat, the ones watching me like a hawk
do you really have to control me this way?
mental disorder, check. physical disorder, check.
is there anything even remotely right with me?
probably not and the thought makes me laugh pretty hard
three meals a day sounds like a death sentence
i want to grab a megaphone and scream from the trees
YOU'RE THE INSANE ONES, EAT, EAT AND EAT
laughing, cackling, fuck you oh sane ones
i know i'm doing what's right
right by me
isn't that what matters?
doesn't what I FEEL matter? no? right, i forgot about that part.
upturned noses, holier than thou, bitch i'd eat if i could
just get fat, honeychile. eat and eat, you'll be one of them
a pig, a consumer whore, asphyxiating from layers of fat
in the end you're nothing anyways.
a bag of fat, a bag of bones, either way you're nasty

don't you just love inner dialogue?

just fuck off for awhile. give me peace, give me silence.
STOP SCREAMING 'STARVE YOU FAT BITCH' i can't take it any longer.