So many hopes, so many dreams, and it all starts with one thing…
I need my body to work.
Please, my dear Lord, my saving grace…grant me a body.
This physical thing, so vital for life.
Please, let me digest, put my system at rest.
That I might easily provide the nourishment my body so desperately needs.
My heart screams to run, there’s an athlete inside.
But my emaciated figure looks anything but.
My bones so, so fragile, my blood counts are low
Keep on like this, and my very life is at risk.
The athlete I am, in the chains of an invalid.
Everything in me longs for the key to these chains.
The horrid truth is, I wish I were starving.
Wish I could think “well if I’d just eat” everything would be fixed.
I wish I’d been practicing the actions of starving.
Living off of vegetables, restricting my intake.
Then, at least, my fix would be simple.
My emaciated figure, fragile bones, organs fighting to hold on.
It all screams that eating should be my cure all.
Just eat, eat, eat.
Malnourished I am, food is my medicine.
The logical part of me clings to that hope.
Time after time rigid meal plans I create.
Calories, calories-up, up, up, up!
Plus pack in the nutrition, cram it down.
Dedicating my life to the process, so hard.
With a system rebelling and worsening every bite.
Only to find, as much as I want a simple fix…
This is not the answer, something is wrong.
3000, 3500, 4000 calories or more.
Cut out the activity, yet instead of rebuilding, weight loss results.
And digestion goes haywire, function down the drain.
A life in the bathroom or trying to cope.
More painful, more damaging as each day passes.
Anything but improving with “consistent big eating.”
My body screams “starving” no matter what goes in.
If only, if only, my system could work.
I could eat what I need, and it would do what it should.
It would go to my heart, to my bones, to my blood.
Repairing the state of things, then building the body.
The body I need for life, the body my dreams require.
I’m tough, I know this, I do what I set my mind to.
This is the core of it all, of my future, my dreams.
I have shown myself willing to do what it takes,
Through the pain, through the failures, I keep forcing it on…
sacrificing things I love most for my dreams long term
Making food a priority, interests and passions aside.
Until I establish the fundamental health so vital.
And I’m left with the hopeless message haunting me…
It doesn’t work, it’s not right.
I want it to work, want it to be so simple.
Oh body oh body why won’t you take what I give you?
Please, I need answers. I need to know what to do.
Deeper than the obvious, I’ve been there tried that.
My action plans I’m so stubborn about—how can they work if my body refuses?
Dear God I beg you, you are my only hope.
Show me what to do, show me how to heal.
Tis’ my Christmas wish, the one only you can give.
A body that works, and the insight as to how I can work with it.
I need my body to work.
Please, my dear Lord, my saving grace…grant me a body.
This physical thing, so vital for life.
Please, let me digest, put my system at rest.
That I might easily provide the nourishment my body so desperately needs.
My heart screams to run, there’s an athlete inside.
But my emaciated figure looks anything but.
My bones so, so fragile, my blood counts are low
Keep on like this, and my very life is at risk.
The athlete I am, in the chains of an invalid.
Everything in me longs for the key to these chains.
The horrid truth is, I wish I were starving.
Wish I could think “well if I’d just eat” everything would be fixed.
I wish I’d been practicing the actions of starving.
Living off of vegetables, restricting my intake.
Then, at least, my fix would be simple.
My emaciated figure, fragile bones, organs fighting to hold on.
It all screams that eating should be my cure all.
Just eat, eat, eat.
Malnourished I am, food is my medicine.
The logical part of me clings to that hope.
Time after time rigid meal plans I create.
Calories, calories-up, up, up, up!
Plus pack in the nutrition, cram it down.
Dedicating my life to the process, so hard.
With a system rebelling and worsening every bite.
Only to find, as much as I want a simple fix…
This is not the answer, something is wrong.
3000, 3500, 4000 calories or more.
Cut out the activity, yet instead of rebuilding, weight loss results.
And digestion goes haywire, function down the drain.
A life in the bathroom or trying to cope.
More painful, more damaging as each day passes.
Anything but improving with “consistent big eating.”
My body screams “starving” no matter what goes in.
If only, if only, my system could work.
I could eat what I need, and it would do what it should.
It would go to my heart, to my bones, to my blood.
Repairing the state of things, then building the body.
The body I need for life, the body my dreams require.
I’m tough, I know this, I do what I set my mind to.
This is the core of it all, of my future, my dreams.
I have shown myself willing to do what it takes,
Through the pain, through the failures, I keep forcing it on…
sacrificing things I love most for my dreams long term
Making food a priority, interests and passions aside.
Until I establish the fundamental health so vital.
And I’m left with the hopeless message haunting me…
It doesn’t work, it’s not right.
I want it to work, want it to be so simple.
Oh body oh body why won’t you take what I give you?
Please, I need answers. I need to know what to do.
Deeper than the obvious, I’ve been there tried that.
My action plans I’m so stubborn about—how can they work if my body refuses?
Dear God I beg you, you are my only hope.
Show me what to do, show me how to heal.
Tis’ my Christmas wish, the one only you can give.
A body that works, and the insight as to how I can work with it.
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