She wasn't born anorexic, but nowadays she suffers,
staring at these half-naked stars on magazine covers.
feeling pressured by the public.
She only weighs 90 pounds but still sucks in her stomach.
On the inside she's dieing, lying to herself, thinking:
-5 more pounds won't jeopardize my health.
One day she might just collapse, she can't avoid it.
Too many sleepless nights spent bent over a toilet.
Spewing vomit, like she was an alcoholic.
Praying to a God she never believed in to stop it.
Hasn't eaten in weeks, drinks water by the heaps.
Now she looks like the skeleton she sees in her closet.
So close to death she can taste it, body looks wasted.
Hates life, hates you, hates the way she looks naked.
Now she's feeling drowsy, lousy,
thinking maybe this world's better off without me

She's staring at her belly, she's so scared to touch it,
imagining the feeling when it kicks inside her stomach.
Too late for safe sex, should have used a latex.
She can't afford a baby on minimum wage paychecks.
Her waistline climbs by inches,
'cuz she traded in the morning workouts for morning sickness.
Feeling nauseous, sleeps on a mat because she's cautious.
Give life or take life, that's her only options.
Only if she had a magic wand, she'd go back to that night
and put her clothes back on.
But she can't change time, or what's growing inside.
How could she love something that's barely alive?
Her body's aching, shaking, from sweaty palms, and cold sweat.
Mentally exhausting like phone sex.
No regrets, life or death, it's high stakes.
'cuz right or wrong, it's only her choice to make.