Ruthless media in my eyes
Everywhere I look around
Skinny girls with their sex appeal
I don’t fit their form
What’s wrong with me
They seem to do it so effortlessly
They eat what I eat
I gain, they lose
The more I gain the more I really lose
I’ve learned beauty is success
Pretty ones get what they want
I feel inadequate
Lacking in the image department
Again I check the mirror
I don’t measure up
I feel sick
I vomit
I vomit until there’s blood
I vomit until there’s nothing
I would become a cannibal
And eat my own flesh
But it would only make me fatter
Starving for attention
Striving to be perfect
But I exist as I am
Am I worthless
Am I incapable of significance
Should I jump from up here
To end the misery I impose
Will I splat all over the sidewalk
Maybe land on a couple of hourglass models
And smother them to death with my dead weight
Copyright 2003 Loser Johnson
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/2948/21799 on Wednesday December 03rd, 2008 01:27 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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