She carries a mirror in her purse.
Normal for most girls, you think.
But is it normal to take it out twenty times a day?
And look at yourself
Critique yourself- your hair, your makeup, your zits, and how ugly your face looks.
It will never be good enough, she thinks.
She thinks like this.

She doesn’t eat much at school.
Maybe she’s not hungry, you say.
So why does she weigh herself constantly?
Starving herself just so she can watch the pounds fall off of her.
Her body, skinny as a stick,
But still not good enough
It will never be good enough, she thinks.
She thinks like this.

She rarely smiles.
Maybe she doesn’t like to smile, you say.
So why does she always feel bad about herself?
Why does she think she is worthless?
Why does she always feel sadness and anger?
It will never be good enough, she thinks.
She thinks like this.

When you found out she took her life you shook it off.
It had nothing to do with me, you think.
She could’ve gotten help, you say.
She could’ve gone to a professional, you add.
But she was trying to get someone-anyone- to help her.
Everything was there screaming out to you.
The self-image, the anorexia, the depression
All you did was make up a billion excuses of what was really going on.
So you’re right she could’ve gone to a professional.
Gotten some sort of help.
But no one was there to tell her that.
But now it’s too late and no matter what you do now,
No matter how many times you go to her grave and say you’re sorry,
It will never be good enough.