“Why can’t you just be happy?”
You ask me, perplexed.
You look at my lanky limbs
And crusting complexion
But my smile seems pretty real to you.
Now, sweetie pie,
Please let me clarify.
You don’t understand what it’s like to have your free will taken,
Ripped from you by ripped guys in football jerseys
And having those things
Calling you f***** for preferring books to bodybuilding
Depression’s not a text message,
So don’t try to read me.
(don’t look at me)

Little Miss Sunshine,
You stomp on the hearts of this puny,
Insignificant institution
In your frilly pink flats.
I lie in my bathtub alone
And your sharp words cut through my skin like the ravenous razor blade
That has a hunger for my flesh and bones
Never satisfied.
Blood like deep red petals fall to the stone
Floor and spread like the scandalous stories you whisper about me.
In middle school we were best friends.
(don’t look at me)

What’s on the menu this evening?
Two laxative pills.
It’s incredible how a teensy-tiny sort,
Can have such a big-a** mouth.
Remember last year in the food court?
It was quite the seemingly saint-like spectacle.
Calling me the “f” word and pointing at my reflection
Really steered me toward the publicly acceptable.
This’ll make you proud–
I haven’t eaten for two days.
I stay away from mirrors now.
(don’t look at me)