So many thoughts
swirling around in my head
like the washing machine,
continuously cleaning
a t-shirt faded at the armpits
and paint-splattered shorts,
from the day I wanted to paint my room
but couldn’t complete the project
without sloppy help.
My insides lurch in my throat,
I either binge unnecessarily
or eat nothing at all,
but nothing matters more
then the numbers.
The mirror feeds the brain
as I grow bigger
and bigger,
feeling nothing but 
after relying on a prescription
to pull me 
from within myself.
As another day goes by
I am left wondering,
who has won?