If only I had tried a little harder
I'd be a size zero like you, mother.
And maybe I'd have the metabolism
Of a teenage horse like my dear brother.
And if I cared enough about what others thought of me
To spend hours in front of the mirror
Applying enough makeup to ruin my flawless skin
While the contents of my closet and dresser drawers
Lay scattered across the bedroom floor
I'd have a baby or two, chubby cheeks and blonde curls,
Instead of graduating high school and attempting college, pretty little cousin.

But I'm not a size zero, mother
And some days I wish I had it in me to starve to death. But I love food too much.
Dear brother, do you think if I had your teenage horse metabolism I'd be able to walk away from this pain?
Because we both know that if I could walk away then I'd run.
And once I started running I'd fly.
Fly so far away from this wrecked earth.
Pretty little cousin, you don't have to try so hard at pretending
Those precious babes are all you wanted out of this life.
It's okay to want more. Do better for yourself. Do better for them.
Just because people expect you to
Spend your life a certain way
Doesn't mean you can't prove them wrong.

They said I needed an electric wheelchair
And a personal care attendant.
Somebody to be with me 'round the clock.
They didn't expect me to be in a regular classroom with the normal kids
But what the hell is normal anyway?
They didn't expect me to go to college, hold a job, live on my own.
They didn't expect me to love another person more than life itself.

Look at me now.