tiny voices telling me to stop taking a bite
“think about the weight you’ll put on — even if it’s slight”
always fighting battles against the food I eat
when there’s finally less of me, I’ll start to feel complete

don’t try to get out of this
you have nowhere to run
the clock ticks by incessantly
your dinner plate’s a gun

pile on the eyeliner and look closely at your face
desiccated and ugly — you’re the epitome of grace

will it ever reach a point when it’ll feel like it’s enough?
if you aren’t being careful the world might call your bluff
you stare into the mirror but you don’t like what stares back
your body is disintegrating, fading into black

don’t try to get out of this
you have nowhere to run
acting like everything’s fine
when inside you’re feeling numb

pile on the eyeliner and look closely at your face
desiccated and ugly — you’re the epitome of grace

put on some more mascara and make up detailed lies
so no one has to know that each day you drop a size
zooming past my goal weight without a second thought
"I need to be at least 110 to be considered hot"

pretty soon you will run out of body to consume
even though you think that you’re the largest in the room

but don’t try to get out of this
you've got nowhere to run
you’re being held as hostage
and we’re just having fun

pile on the eyeliner and look closely at your face
desiccated and ugly — you’re the epitome of grace