Sorry, I couldn't fit your standards I was too busy starving myself because apparently, forty-two kilograms is too heavy for society and you were afraid I was going to break the chair.you didn't tell me I was underweight not only was anorexic I was anemic skipping meals and exercising I mean that's fine I guess I could put on concealer to conceal my eye bags and feelings, put on blush so I looked like I was alive. put on a light layer of lipstick so my lips didn't look as pale , I'll put on foundation to look humane, to hide the scars I made when I ate more than 300 calories a day.

Sorry, I'm wearing an oversized sweater and pants I didn't know I had to dress to please every time I went to school I thought it was a place to learn not somewhere you were based on how you look on the outside. I got the latest trend, Am I people worthy now are you going to sneer at me every time I walk down the halls?

Sorry, I almost died trying to fit your social standards, I totally downed pills for the attention of my peers, It's not like it would do me any harm.

Sorry

There's no more to be done, or feared, or hoped;
None now need watch, speak low, and list, and tire;
No irksome crease outsmoothed, no pillow sloped
        Does she require.

Blankly we gaze.  We are free to go or stay;
Our morrow's anxious plans have missed their aim;
Whether we leave to-night or wait till day
        Counts as the same.

The lettered vessels of medicaments
Seem asking wherefore we have set them here;
Each palliative its silly face presents
        As useless gear.

And yet we feel that something savours well;
We note a numb relief withheld before;
Our well-beloved is prisoner in the cell
        Of Time no more.

We see by littles now the deft achievement
Whereby she has escaped the Wrongers all,
In view of which our momentary bereavement
        Outshapes but small.