It's Not What You Think

By Melody McCoy-Cole

Pop some pills hope to be thin

One fad is out and another comes in 

One that is smaller and even more new 

But probably more dangerous as the previous two

So we can make ourselves the tiniest of all

No one catches the bones when we fall

Decomposing ourselves from the inside out

Not listening to our body’s shouts

Getting to that final size

Even if death is on the rise

Worse than Ebola or any other disease

Is the one that I control the one that lives within me

So now if I say to just let go

Let everything out and start to go slow

If I decide to put the blades down or just keep things from coming out of my mouth

Then maybe I will beat this damn old disease

Or maybe it’s the devil that already consumed me. 

By Melody McCoy-Cole