I (H)Ate Myself

I hate myself

I ate myself

Why do I do this? 

Why must I continue to eat like this? Live like this? Be like this?

I don't even enjoy the food. I  just eat it. Flavor doesn't matter. It could be great, it could be gross. It's all the same.

I eat and eat and eat and eat. And at the end of it all?

I hate myself. 

There's no more sobering moment than when I've finished the last bite. Once that last bite goes down, the morning after has begun.

Why must this persist? 

Why must I insist on doing this over and over and over, only to compound my further misery and self-loathing.

I'm sick. But do I require treatment? Is there medication? Do I even deserve it?

I ate myself. I hate myself. And that's not fair.

I ate myself. I hate myself. Why should you care?

You shouldn't. It's on me.

I ate myself

I hate myself

Misery seems destined to be