If you knew
all the thoughts that come to me
when I'm alone at 3 am,
troubled and depressed

Would you still sit next to me,
in such close proximity,
making my heart pound so loud
to read over my shoulder?

If you saw the red lines that mark
my pale stomach,
and saw what I see
when I look at myself,

Would you still smile at me
from across the room,
offer to play some game
I don't know the rules to?

If you knew how many times I
skipped meals,
how many times I wanted to disappear
and never come back,

Would you still stand to be
in my presence, untroubled?
Would you love me
the same way?

The answer is no,
because the real me
is scared, ugly and raw.
It would be unbearable to love me again

So I'll keep it hidden
I'll cover up the scars that haunt my memories
and put on a believable smile
before letting you see me

But oh, it still hurts,
so, so much,
because even though you don't know the truth,
I do.