It's all done. The food. The intake. The Fat. It's still here and it's still growing. The control is gone. The friends are gone. The alchohol doesnt fuck me anymore. The air isnt so clear. The cats dont make me sneeze. The boys still make me jealous. The emptiness still stenches in my chest cave. The fat oozes out from my hips like butter on garlic bread. Your breath still makes me sick. My insecurity kills the moment. Sitting at tables alone. Looking at the children play ; while I secretly hate them for their loudness. But what such freedom has become of me to sit alone and linger; to think but not to act. To sing but not to feel. To feel this numbed pain but not to rid it of my mind. Give not unto your darling pains and freedom but find yourself a new seed to grow. And fly out on rugs tomorrow for this -- is all we know. The food, the pain. The food and gain. Weight. Sadness. Insecure yet proud. Fat but happy. Happy yet alone. Bring me down, bring me down, bring me down. down. down. down. down. Shall we welcome to town -- the king of frown.
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