One step at a time, she said.

Obese,

every single burden

that she carried.

Each worry

fed on 20 meals of junk food

at every passing minute.

She choked

on each bite,

and lived through the pain

of gulping them as a whole.

How long can she last on her tiny feet of hers?

This is probably one  of the worst pieces I’ve written, but it describes a quarter of how I’m feeling these days.

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