I struggle to be normal,
To eat like an average person,
To see myself as healthy,
I'm always picking... always picking,

The scars and stretch marks that sit on my body,
The healthy fat that makes me self conscious,
My thighs I hate, my arms too wobbly,
My body image generally messed,

All because of food which I lack to like,
Each unique taste, most I don't like,
When I stress I revert to avoidance,
Avoidance to talk, avoidance to eat,

Avoiding... it's my way of coping,
My parents hate it, but I need it,
Life as is I cannot cope without,
To feel better, I avoid the food most of all,

Struggling with the yapping, screaming, and demands,
With mum always on my case about food,
My mouth refusing to tell me dad about my struggle,
Food is always the first to go,

I'm off everything, my favourite things included,
I'm force-fed by my friends, my mother,
Nobody seems to really notice, not even myself,
But how can I notice much when I'm over-stressed?

See being who I am is complicated,
Because food is never a friend,
And tea and chocolate seem to make me sick,
I can't win ever, so I tolerate...

I tolerate a "normal" life