I Starve (bulimia)

Starving for perfection
a beauty from within
no food to make me full
dieing to be thin

endless nights of purging
no one understands
how can i carry on
when i don't have a hand

a desire to be so small
the point of no return
hunger pangs and pressures
is that all i have earned

my fingers, we've connected
as they touch my swollen throat
the toilet, we are one
as all my memories float

starving for perfection
a masked beauty in my heart
slowly i am dieing
Im being scraped apart