You say I'm a slut because I spend time with my boyfriend at his house.
I've heard the rumors you've spread.
What you don't know is, we weren't doing anything even close to sex.
He was letting me sleep on the couch, while he stayed up late at night making sure my dad wouldn't come and beat me.
Everytime I stare down into that toilet I swear to myself it will be the last time.
But day after day, meal after meal I find myself going back to that same place of regret.
I shove my fingers down my throat to rid the calories, but really, I'm just ridding myself of any dignity I have left.