My mirror was wrong. Did I really look this way?
My cheeks were wet; useless to try to wipe the tears away.

A prominent spine, like the spine on my book.
It held me together, but I couldn't bare to look.

They said, "You're so pretty, your smile glistens like the lake,"
I could barely inform them, that my smile was fake.

An uneaten lunch, guilt masked with hate.
Whispers and glances, "When was the last time she ate?"

I tried to cease motion, and be calm like the ocean
But I lied to myself that day.

My problems were too tough, the waves were too rough
They were washing my sanity away.

Mirrors were poison, their lies were in vain.
It became hard to wear that fake smile
That masked all my pain.

"I swear I'm okay," but that lie was in haste
Because my biggest concern was the size of my waist.

My body was fragile, my mind even more.
Rumors flew around me, "What'd that girl do behind that locked bathroom door?"

But my problem wasn't like that, it happened within.
My mind and mirror said I was fat, when in reality I was thin.

A woman tried to fix me, as if I was broken.
She poked and prodded my mind.

Desperate yet uncertain, I fiend disinterest
Because I was terrified of what she would find.

I felt like I was labeled; my dignity was shattered.
Not many understood, yet it's not like it mattered.

But I went through this journey and mended my soul; I redeemed my faith within.
I realized, at last, that my worth is not determined by whether I'm thick or thin.

Beauty is abstract, what's important is health.
I am proud, I am beautiful. And yes. I have saved myself.