Do you know what it's like?
to wake up and hate what you see, to hate the girl you perceive yourself to be?
well I do.
I know the pain of crying at the reflection of an average girl
I’ve cried because a voice inside me told me I’m not enough, that I’ll never be good enough

And they all tell me the same advice,
don’t listen to the negativity, it’ll only bring you down.
and “the water will only sink the boat if it gets inside the boat”
or something like that
but what do you do when the water isn’t coming from outside?
and it has never come from the outside?
What do you do when the water pours from your mind to your soul and you cannot seem to stop it
what do you do then?
they also say that the wolf that you feed is the one that will win
but I don’t remember ever feeding the critic on myself, yet she is always there
and when I try to be positive she just become harsher and louder and meaner
  and I cannot stop her words
they penetrate my mind, and I try to not focus on them
but when I get berated every minute of every day about everything I do
it takes its toll on me
and I can’t help but think I deserve the pain and the blame and the anger
   maybe I really do.  maybe I am a terrible person, like she tells me I am
am I a bad person?
Do I deserve the criticism? I don’t even know anymore

And I swear, I’m trying to focus on the positives, and I’m trying to take care of myself
but some days it's harder than others, to smile and to see a flower and to feel the wind

  sometimes I don’t even feel the wind, and those are the days that really scare me

It’s hard to remember a time when my inner critic wasn’t this loud and mean
when she actually supported me and helped me
She’s always been a bearer of terribly cruel words
her words hurt.
but I’ve gotten good at ignoring her,
  or at least pretending like she doesn’t bother me
she really does, but I can’t tell anyone, because then I’d look crazy.

Maybe I am crazy.  maybe I should be locked up.
but I’ve never hurt anyone.
         Only myself
and that's no so bad right?  Because she tells me I deserve it.
wow.  I really do sound crazy.
But when you hold things in and hold things in and never tell
it does something to you, you know?
No. how could you?  You don’t live in my mind
where words are yelled at me in language I would never use out loud
where swearing and yelling and anger are common and ordinary

  She’s always yelling
telling me how stupid that conversation was, and why would I ever try to talk to him?
and how my hair is always out of place and messed up
or how my shirt makes me look even fatter than I am
oh yes, telling me how fat I am is her forte.
she likes to remind me of the calories that I eat, and of how many plates I have sitting in front of me (it doesn’t matter that I ate one bite from each plate, it only matters that I have 4 plates sitting there), and of the number on the scale, and that even though it's lower than what I weighed for so long it's higher than it was 2 weeks ago. 

oh yes.  she loves to remind me of how I fail. 
of how I tripped while walking down the stairs
of how I fell off the couch the other day
of how no one liked my movie choice
of how I slept through an exam (even though I was allowed to retake it)
of how I cried in class that one day
of how I spent $20 at walmart
of how I always drop my phone
of how I can’t say anything funny
of how I’m never good enough for her golden bar
  set a billion yards above my head that I’ll never be able to reach
she loves to remind me of things I should have long forgotten about

why does she hate me so?
what did I ever do to her?  Sometimes, I try to remember some horrific childhood trauma or bullying that could have caused her harsh voice to always be in my mind,
but I can’t.  There isn’t any
There is no reason as to why she is always there, she just is.
So I compensate for the inner abuse I get from her.
I buy myself coffee and take myself on walks
I cry and I take hot showers
I don’t eat food and I watch sad netflix movies.
I self harm and think about suicide
I worry about every word I say and every look I get from people

This is just the way I live, in my silly complicated brain
and I choose to think maybe one day she’ll go away,
but she hasn’t yet.
but maybe tomorrow.
so for now I’ll take myself for dinner, and I’ll buy myself flowers
and I’ll pour my soul out in my journal and read a book
And I know it’ll be ok one day.