Everytime I think I’ve beaten you, you reappear.
In the pit of my stomach you erupt a world of emotions.
The nausea takes over my body whilst you infect my mind.
The hate you inflict on me will never leave.
How can something that isn’t physically real be so detrimental to life?
You take over, making me someone I’m not.
You distort the perception I once had of myself.
You dictate the food I eat and the way I feel.
You win. Even when I think I’ve finally beaten you.
Even after things physically improve, and everyone things I’ve beaten you.
All it takes is one bad day and …