The Focal Point of all My Lust and Desire: Thin.

Thin,

The urge to be skin and bones,

and nothing but "in".

An intoxicating desire,

a dangerous one too, 

The craving.

Oh, it makes me spin.

Yet I will not stop,

not until I win.

Be it 

900

1000

1200

1500

700

400

or 200

Mesmerized girls, awestruck faces, 

I look at them with disdain and hopelessness.

"mindless, consumer-driven, misogynistic" I say

I am above all that,

I think.

I worship in secret.

It is a secret well kept, at times, even from myself.

A binge.

a binge is characterized by doing too much of something.

To engorge, unrestrained. Excessiveness. Loss of control.

By the wiser and experienced it can be classified as a collapse.

Collapse of all that's good, it harbors a monster; a demon.

The world comes crumbling down.

All dreams and aspirations,

Gone.

An empire, disintegrating into smoke

Because the match was lit

Thin.

A thing for the elite

"Not everyone can do this"

I gaze at them, full of awe.

Full of admiration.

"I can do this" I think.

Yet my conscience crushes me everyday, why do I tie my worth to something so silly? why do I crumble under the pressure of my own oppression? Like a fool, I imprison myself. Every passing moment, every second of a second, when will I be thin? Why Why Why Why.




Do what, dear child?

Poor child.

Poor me.