the rain of glitter and elegant rose petals complete my fraud mask of fake smiles and laughs --

i stare at my reflection in the dreaded glass through my distorted eyes. they view my dreaded warped physique. staring at it for endless amounts of time.

picking apart every pore of my skin; turning round and round looking at the girl in the glass. she is a complete failure to these stranger eyes; these eyes that are the same to millions of girls in this psychotic world. a murderer to some.

the voice of satan that i have sold my soul to. unfortunately the girl in the mirror is not beautiful. there is blood in her veins, there is oxygen in her lungs; but nothing more than these required tools for living in this prisoner body.

her soul is broken, misunderstood. she is a living dead girl; waiting for the day to break free from the demons that are chained to her.

i have spent many days in the bathroom. alone. inside four walls. sleeping, waiting for death; contemplating it. self-induced releasing my
previous meal.

it is an addiction i cannot release myself from; there is no cure, no solution, no coping mechanisms.

there have been many battles.
but this is one i cannot win.
acceptance is the key. my life will be short, my heart will give out. at least that is what the professionals have expressed to me.

this is one of my many imperfections; it is true that my sanity is completely lost.
and that i may never find it.

these words are the only thing that gives me the release from my psychotic mind for a little while.