That girl sitting there
Such a beautiful tradgedy
Her body a grave
Her mind a travesty
The memories that scream from the deep
The nights she stays awake when she should be asleep
A fine example of anorexia at its finest
Anorexia, thin and spineless
A ghost pushing on
No one questions what went wrong
A disaster barely alive
Her eating disorder began to strive
Pained by her surroundings
Few could see her drowning
Trying to stay afloat each day
Few questioned if she was okay
She was very much alone
'Til the day she was simply bones.

Human beings... we have a flaw.
Can't you see?
Wait no, you can't see.
Only the others can see.
Humans flaw is we strive to achieve others visions.
It starts when we are young.
Mom wants you to graduate school with good grades.
You go out graduate school with c average or higher.
God forbid you drop out.
Through out school you dress to satisfy the eyes of others.
You act as a member of society.
Do what is seen as normal.
Once my therapist educated me on social norms.
Who is one to decide these social norms though?
Who decides what is acceptable and what is not?

Why is it we speak language. One uniformed form of speech. It's acceptable in society that's why.
Why is it if you can believe in a god that he still puts babies in the graves. Kids dying for illness everyday. Explain that.
Why is it that life quality still *****. I'm still here. Me and my bottomless bottles of pills.
Four of these. Two of these. One of that.
Why am I here.
Do I have purpose?
Maybe my purpose was to be a faint memory...
One to pass with the blowing leaves.
Either way i am here.
Either way I'm still clinging to life.
Pill by pill.
Medical ritual after ritual.
I am here.
Alive.

In a world full of people whom claim to be something I have encountered quite a few nothings.
The nothings who feel the need to flaunt accomplishments in the other somethings faces.
The nothings who brag on and on about how they are the most important something.
I've also met a few somethings.
The ones who hide behind their creativity and silence.
The somethings who can't speak in crowds.
And funny thing is all the nothings who identify as something bring all the somethings identifies as nothings down.
They are the ones who make the somethings think they are nothing.

Does the word ring a bell?
Ever feel trapped in your own
Personal hell?
Regretting every move?
Everything is dark
Storm clouds linger in the air.
Storm clouds that grow darker
It's not even sadness
Over and over the feeling screams
Numb is all I feel.

Depression is an empty feeling