Reality

I've lost myself to the rest of the world,
Drinks, drugs, prettier girls.
Now I smoke in the morning and drink after dark,
And every night at dinner, my stomach will bark.
Then it's off the the bathroom to lean over the bowl,
A finger down my throat; My weight's under control.
I look up at the mirror, "Am I pretty yet?"
My skin is yellowed, my now-matted hair's dull brunette.
My eyes are sunk in and I look less heavy than air,
I stare at the mirror, "You're getting there."
So it's back to the way the world says I should be,
Drinks, drugs, prettier girls; Reality.