The Eating Illness

The nausea stirs inside of me,
Every thought i've ever held back.
Trying to execute me.

The whole world is spinning.
It may just collapse on me now.
Even in the silence,
Where I pretend to see the stars.

Sometimes I wish they'd take me.

Being inside of myself,
Is like being buried alive.

I told you I couldn't breathe.
To stay away from me.

You're help is as little as a shovel.
I just want to rest in peace.