Every night, half past three,
Hunger grows high and strong.
Foods no longer fits the appetite,
Though it feels so cruel and wrong.
Eating nonstop, till breathing slow,
Body smelling like tar, gluttonous blow.
All sweaty drenched and wet,
Eyes hollow, wishing for death.
Binge and fat, all the time,
Hitting like drug, precisely mine.
What to do, what to say?
Feels the same, with everyday.