There is an issue with my tum,

It’s sticking out and not much fun.

If I pigged out I wouldn’t care,

I really don’t, so it’s not fair.

It’s full of air, a giant bloat,

As though I’m pregnant from a ghost.

It’s from colitis, an IBD,

And it’s uncomfortable constantly.

My pants are tight though I don’t eat,

Apart from breakfast; seriously.

My gastro doctor doesn’t care,

She’s glamorous and debonair.

I need another, that’s for sure,

Someone who answers my phone calls.

People say, “you look so well!”

If I smile no one can tell.

I feel spaced out, drink protein shakes,

Because I can’t digest a steak.

Real food has lost all its appeal,

I’m quite fed up with this ordeal.