I met her in December
Which at the time
Felt so typical
She was always so upset
Over nothing at all
And I just wanted to heal her soul
With my bleeding hands

She hurt to touch
Scars littered her wrists
Her thighs
Her heart.

She hurt to see
Even when she smiled
I could still sense
A deep melancholy  
Within her

If I could imagine up a way
To personify
Depression
My character
Wouldn't have been half
As tragic
As Emily Mae

And I stared at her
Staring into the mirror
Pinching her sides
Pretending that the
Elasticity of her skin
Somehow represented ugliness

Stop that you're stunning
I would whisper to her
Do you think so?

Do you want to know what I think?
I became stern
I think that it is so horrifying
To live in a society
Where if we see bones
On our pets
We automatically
Think they are being abused
Or starving to death
But if we see bones
On ourselves
We consider it

*Beauty.