She used to kneel before her bed every night
Praying to God
Make me beautiful,
Make me skinny
He didn't make her beautiful,
Or skinny
But he graced her with depression and anxiety
So she took matters into her own hands
And she now kneels in front of her porcelain throne
Hair in a messy bun, trying to keep quiet
And she prays
*Make me disappear,
Make me die