“No, never her, not that girl”
Little did they know that her web of lies was waiting to unfurl.
Beauty, brains, she had it all as some would say,
But depression became the predator and she the prey.
Confidence that others would **** for,
A mask of self-assurance she wore.
How could one who had everything going for her,
Become her own saboteur?
Ran, she did for months, even years,
Hoping this question would eventually disappear.
“Are you okay?” “Yes, I’m fine,”
Others never knowing the desolation that haunted her mind.
Feelings, earnest thoughts, locked away, hidden on a shelf,
And in the process she buried herself.
Into a hole she thought she could never escape,
Till one day she’s found in a bed wearing a hospital cape.
“No, never her, not that girl,”
Little did they know that her web of lies was waiting to unfurl.

Purge.
I purge myself of the fat I girl I was and
Hope to be no more
Purge.
I purge myself of the carbs I just devoured
Longing to see a lesser number on a scale.
Purge.
I purge myself of all the “I would never do that” comments
Of a girl with a good head on her shoulders.
Purge.
I purge myself to be the ideal girl
With the hourglass figure.
Purge.
I purge myself of all the warnings I’ve heard
Knowing that I’m destroying my interior
Hoping to have the ideal exterior
Purge.
I purge myself of my meals,
But in reality I’m ridding myself of guilt
Purge.
I purge myself of the fat girl I used to be
In hopes of being the girl, the world wants to see.
Purge.

Pretty
Pretty.
What does it mean to her?
Since the beginning time, she was always told she was pretty,
But at one point that little girl began to question
If what she was told was a lie.
Everybody seemed pretty,
But her.
She was no longer the “You should sign her up for modeling” girl.
She became “Oh, she’s ….. tall”
Or “Wow, you’re big! Oh I mean big for your age.”
When the “pretty” faded, so did her spirit.
The omnipresent smile was gone,
As well as her joy.
She became her mother’s nightmare
Moody,
Sensitive,
Irritable,
Argumentative.
She covered up her self-destructive insecurities with faux confidence and
“No really, I’m fine”
Just as if one covers up their unsightliness
With aggrandize grand eyes, cheeks and lips
No one ever knew that underneath all the bravado
There was still a little girl,
Who seemed grown physically and sometimes mentally,
Longing for someone to tell her she’s pretty.


Incorrect.


This little girl was waiting to tell herself she was pretty
And believe it.