The poems return

So last night I wrote a poem...here it is:

It's hard to describe something to someone when you personally don't know what it is,

  but it's even harder trying to do it when you know something exists.

It's something deeper inside of me that's just out of my reach,

  sending my emotions and spiritual self on a roller coaster ride week after week.

The thoughts are so consuming that nothing else matters at the time,

  Sometimes I wonder how these thoughts in my head could ever possibly be mine.

The obsessions, the negative vibe, the lies that I am told,

  so ridiculous to say that food could do this to someone's soul.

I can go back to in time to figure out the time line of how this occur ed,

but dwelling on the past as we all know only makes matters worse.

So I have come to accept that I am powerless over food,

and that working the twelve steps is something I must seriously do.

I want to be free from these wasteful consuming obsessions,

  and spend that time instead of my life's most precious possessions