-How can you lie to my face, lie into my weeping swollen, tiresome, eyes.
Whisper the nasty lies into my ear, making my brain roll and gasp for the truth.
Your lies burn into my head, making that persistent voice drown you out, speaking the truth that you refuse to say yourself.
Your pretty (Your so ugly)
Your beautiful (Your sickening, more make-up)
Your thin (Lose weight)
Your not fat (Lose some weight you pig)
I love you (I'm telling you everything you want to hear)
Your lies are echoed by the voice in my head that speaks only the truth, decrypts what you are really saying to me.
Stop lying to me, stop helping me because it hurts too much to listen to your lies, when I'm crying in your arms, your hugs are fake.
I'm behind a glass, a glass at which i can never get though, a glass that gets stronger the more you lie to me.
This glass has a name, as does the voice.
Bulimia.
Bulimia drowns you out, turning your truths into lies, mangles my mind, digs its rut's into my brain until I am unable to pull away from it.
Speak louder, drown out bulimia, save me from its repulsive lies that slowly extinguishes my life.
