
Deep trenches left behind,
each groove
a reminder
of battles fought against myself.
This one tells of days
when feeding
seemed an impossible effort
to a girl
lost in fashionable angst.
That one marks a time,
when rebellious revenge came
under an adipose cover.
Another appeared,
when the counterstrike
to a weighty uprising
led to starvation.
They are a record
of the metamorphoses forced
on my own landscape,
when I waged war
against nature.
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