it rules, still.

Pink. Yellow. A bit of noodles. Some Spice.
Legs trembling. Head's spinning. You got it on your feet.
Two mirrors. Butt naked. Hatred for your reflection.

The bones won't convince you, your face does.
The stomach, the thighs, your cheeks.
No numbers, no scales, just your mind telling you how it is.

I wish you'd stop controlling me.
I wish you'd stop controlling me.
I wish you'd stop controlling me.
I wish youfuforujf nfkewjfn

-riri-