Pretty, skinny. perfect,
Everything I want to be.
Well, I mean on the outside at least.

You post pictures of your "great" feast,
But I know it was a binge.

You appear so perfect and normal,
But you shed that skin
As you become out of sight.

Anxiety, mental break downs,
And I don't even know what.

You don't try to hide it,
Yet you somehow don't let it show.
At least to those who you don't know.

I understand so much,
Yet I don't at the same time.

You are so skinny,
Yet you don't eat and call yourself fat.
I understand hating yourself so much,
You make yourself suffer.
I understand it is your only need to cope.
Yet I don't understand
How someone has never been fat like me
Is taught and told to hate herself.

I want the best for you,
But I still don't know how bad it got.

I just can't stand to see you look perfect,
While no one sees your pain, fear, or guilt.