This is an Open Letter – if you are questioning if it is to you – than you are right. Each and every one of you.
Take from me until there is nothing left and I must find solace elsewhere. My addiction: food; is your weapon and my foe.
You pretend that you’ve got noting to do with the problem. “I am on your side” or “What do you mean?”
Clearly, I mean that my head pounds, my body expands, my heart aches and I’m slowly breaking. All of this is to your advantage. Your perfect co-dependent: exactly what the collective YOU require to survive.
Do you actually SEE ME when you look my direction? Can you read my eyes after all of these years? At what cost, financial – physiological – physical, will you destroy me?
Dare you attempt to respond?