When I look in the mirror,
What do I see?
I see a 'girl' i see everything I'm not.

Wearing dresses to concerts
And makeup to parties
Why can't I wear a suit?

Being eloquent and fancy
"Dont mess up your hair!"
Why can't my hair be shorter?

Nails manicured to perfection
Painted a hot pink
Why can't they be painted blue..?


Its like tar
Sinking into my stomach
I can feel it weighing me down

I cant speak, I can't tell.
I can't get help for no one knows
How do I get rid of it..?


I grip my hair with both hands and pull
I can f e e l it tearing
I can f e e l my head bleeding
But i dont care because at least my hair is shorter, and at least some pressure is gone.

I paint with the silver and watch as my canvas turns red.
I make sure it goes across the stream and not with the flow..
I make sure to clear up afterwards.

"Why cant you be normal?"
"What's with the weird attitude"
"Its just a p h a s e"

I run home crying after school.
Its only 3pm
My parents get home at 5 pm

I go to the bathroom and grab my mom's medications.

I grab the silver, sharp-edged paintbrush.

I grab my journel and start to tell my story..

By the time my parents got home..

Their son was too far gone.