The number written on my mirror, the thoughts racing through my head,
I have to write this all down, cuz’ who knows when I’ll be dead,
“what number?” you may ask, “why mention it here?”
it’s the number, that when it goes up immerses me in fear.
the fear that I am losing control, that I am slipping in my ways,
I swear I have been good! I haven’t eaten for days,
but still, that nagging number whispers cruel thoughts in my ear,
stories of self-doubt, self-hatred, and fear
that **** fear again, why is it always there,
giving me monstrous suggestions, telling me why they all stare,
“it’s not the way you dress, the way you talk, the way you smile”
“no, it’s the fact that they can see you getting bigger while you stay in denial”
Every headache every dizzy spell, it’s all part of my path,
“beauty is pain” right? but what does that pain leave in the aftermath?
The skeleton of the person I once was begins to emerge,
I guess that’s why I’m writing this, you know cuz’ I’m on the verge
But not just one thing has pushed me into this hellish place,
oh no, to top it all off another human decided to quicken my pace,
well, I guess not one but a few,
each one knowing exactly what to do.
One welcomed me in, he enticed me with a hug and a kiss,
then that ******* took something away from me, and my permission was dismissed,
The other berated me with stories of woe,
constantly telling me she was far above, and I was always so below,
By now you are asking, “why didn’t you tell me this?”, “Why now?”
the answer is, I guess mortality has given me bravery somehow,
oh, how I wanted to say, “Look at me! see how much I am broken!”
but that would have cracked my “tough shell” wide open,
many times, I tried, but life always got in the way
and I do not doubt that your answer would have been, "did you pray?"
and there is nothing wrong with that, that is how you cope,
but for me, every lesson, every lecture was just tightening the rope,
You grew up in a world where the solution was “an attitude change”
So, all of this mental mumbo jumbo is just too strange,
you are a true lover of life and love,
but not everything can be fixed by a light from above,
You have raised me right, you have done no wrong,
but I have wanted to be free for so long,
living here is like my own personal hell,
and the only way out is well...
Ending my own life is not the path I know you would choose,
but this is one argument you will eventually lose,
I will greet death as a long-lost friend,
for he will be the only one to walk me home in the end.
The people around tell me it is a sin,
how can it be if it's my only way to win?
I am afraid the battle with my own demons has become too much,
I have no reason to live, no life for me to clutch.
You are not to blame, it is not your fault,
even as the air in my lungs comes to a halt,
as the blade slides, and blood drips down my palm,
remember you still are a good mom.