It's like a confession,

my dirty little secret.

I threw up again,

just brushed it away

put on a smile and hit replay.

It never happened

that's what I say,

until I look in the mirror

walking away from the scene 

not getting a chance to clean.

Oh no, I heard the door to the bathroom stall

another girl just entered from down the hall.

What if they smell it and see?

My face is pale, they'll know it was me.

Quickly I dab at the food colored stains

enough water - they'll go down the drain.

I can just pretend I was flustered.

Maybe they won't connect the dots?

After all it wasn't me

you see, I already hit replay.

Now its time to wait,

wait till another day.

Because thats the thing,

it always comes again.

Anxiety. Sadness. Guilt. Shame.

They settle in

waiting.

Waiting until the lights go dim.

Boom!

The cycle, it begins

again.

I've tried with all my might

But maybe I just don't have it in me,

Maybe I'm tired of the fight.