"Spread the love,"

The poster says.

But what if there is no love to spread?

My pain envolpes me like a web

The spider is me

It's all in my head.

I watch the girls smile,

Eating chocolate from their sweethearts.

But what part of the heart is even sweet?

I watch them get flowers,

Murdered plants cut at their stems.

Their sweet blood juice flows out of their green veins

We stuff them in bouquets filled with sickly sweet rhymes

From a time when our hearts could care

From a time when we weren't bare skeletons.

Do tell me

What love is there to spread?

The mirror speaks to me.

It tells me that I am fat

It whispers that I'm weak

It comments on my matte hair

The mirror hates me.

It tells me that I need to be skinny

It hooks up the bait and pulls

It catches my mini figure

It tells me to dig a hole

The mirror gets the hole dug.

A six feet deep burrow for my soul

For how can I say no?

As I lay in the hole

I dream of eating from a bowl

A bowl of laughter, of friendship, of happy times

But there is no such bowl.

The corset tightens

And I fade

I want to rest these tired bones

But I can't with my future made.

I will die a lonely life

I will cry and cry

For this mirror lies to me

Why can't I see?

This monster inside of me

I am fading oh so fast

And I should hurry or protest

To end this life and or death.

I am dead.

I look at the mirror, and I don't see me.

I look at the plate, but I don't eat.

I struggle, push, and pull my way out of this hole.

I am alive.

I watch the girls weigh themselves and cry.

I watch them starve themselves and die.

That was me, but now it isn't.

Am I saved? Who saved me?

Was it an angel? Maybe.

Was it my friend? Probably.

Or was it me?