Gluttony

Hunger is very painful, Eating was its cure. Everyday I ate and ate, With no clue to stop, Inhaling and savoring every drop, The pleasure and satisfaction it brought—made it extremely addicting. Reality became a blur, The delectableness made me fully hypnotized. Like a puppet bound by my own strings. I was swayed until someone point it out. Each method, the sought of ease it brought, completely crushed under their besought. Their response feels like a boulder stacking on top of me, entirely crashing me down. As I mourn everyday, the possibilty I could've avoided this, I can't help but ignore the pain for every relief I felt. For the monster I've become, there was comfort in my skin that I bear. But so much solace it gave, others words cut through me like a knife. Anything sharp may do, As the feeling they may need to. Cutting me down into nothing, I felt sick. Absolutely disgusting. So horrible of what I've done—what I've become. Very sickening it makes me throw up. The comfort I experienced thoroughly disappears as that revolting feeling comes out. For that sheer happiness that distracts me, anothers distraught burdens me. So who am I if I don't meet society's expectations?