You don't need the smoky colored quartz dangling in your hair,
Or the liquid rubies painted onto your soft lips,
Or the powdered gold dusted onto your eyelids to hide the look of pain.
You don't need the silver buttons strung up your shirt to make your aura seem pure,
Or the perfect pearls around your throat to tease and allure,
Or the obsidian skirt hugging your thighs to add the finishing touch.
You don't need the diamond blade to make you bleed imperial topaz onto your marble floor,
Or the laxatives made of howlites to cut your figure thin,
Or the breast implants made of danburites to make you seem attractive.
You are worth more than the emeralds that people compare your eyes to.
You are worth more than the sapphires that make up the water in your body.
And you are worth more than the taaffeites that compose the air you breath.
You are a perfect angel without the expensive things.
Just sing sweet lullabies of the truth and be yourself,
To ensure you live in a beautiful reality.

Yes, I'm okay.
No I'm not.

Yes, I'm just really tired.
No, I'm tired of living.

Yes, everything is fine.
No, my world is crashing down around me.

Yes, I'll be fine
No, you'll be lucky to see clean wrists tomorrow.

Yes, I've been eating.
No, I haven't eaten, when I do, I throw it back up in disgust.

Yes, I feel confident.
No, I just wish I was perfect.

Yes, I'm fine being alone.
No, I just want somebody to love me...

Yes, I'm telling the truth*
No, I'm telling the truth.

Crying in the rain only lasts so long
And redrawing faded sharpie butterflies can't go on forever
Dreading over the pink and white lines that make you look like like a kindergarten art project only causes secrecy
While puking up your last meal only causes travesty.
We all hit the bottom whether it be through drugs or cuts
Burning or vandalism
Alcohol or caffeine
Puking or refusing to eat.
We all have a point that we wish we never turned to
And the meds prescribed to help you
Only make it worse
And seem like a fantasy.
We all hit the bottom but to sip from a different cup
We have learned to fake smiles
And pretend to have our chin up.

Poetry isn't about the words,
Or the emotions,
Or sounding beautiful,
Or looking smart,
Or knowing big words
Like ephemeral.
It isn't about alliteration
Or similes and metaphors.
Poetry is about what it doesn't say.
The silence between the words,
That's what matters.