The water is running
Et dikt jeg har skrevet om Bulimi eller "Mia".
She runs to the bathroom, and she closes the door.
Thinks "This is the last time"- as she's thought before.
As teardrops starts growing, she kneels on the floor.
And she knows that this time it will hurt even more.
She acts like a robot, nothing' s in her control.
And in this selfdiscust, she suddenly feel small.
She hopes no one can hear her. She hopes no one will see-
the fakeness of her perfect mask, the monster she can be.
When the horrid routine's at it's stop, her hands are shaking as she try to stand up.
She promise herself she'll never do it again.....but then.
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