They took me from school
They put me in an ambulance
My favorite teacher came with
Next thing I know
I have a hospital wristband on
It has my name printed on it
I have an uncomfortable gown on
Weird socks on with grip on the bottom
Walking the cold hospital halls
Personally escorted
I remember thinking to myself
"I'm officially crazy"
They use their keycard to unlock the doors
I carefully step into a psych ward
It felt so isolated, cold, and sad
They took me to what they called "my room"
Bathroom was locked
Walls were blank
Shelf's were empty
They left my room
It was about 12;00 a.m
There was a bright green clock light in the wall
I turned down the lights
I tried to make my thoughts go to sleep
But it was my soul that was more awake than ever
I just laid there
I asked myself why I was here
Suicide, misery, depression, self-hate
And cuts on my wrist is what came to mind
"Oh" I said to myself with a tear sliding down the side of my face
That's why I'm here

Dear society, I'm tired of your
debauching standards of what
it means to be beautiful into a
mere commodity.

Dear society, why can't you look
into the windows of the soul? Are
you scared to see a flawed being
just like yourself? Scared to see
what truly lies in the heart? Scared
to see more and want more than
just a body?

Dear society, what you call
beauty now is only joy for
your eyes. There should be
more to us than just *** appeal.

Dear society, your expections
has done more harm that good.
Those who fall in line will always
be accepted. And the ordinary
will be rejected...

You've made me feel like I'll never
be good enough. That my life
should be dictated to meet your
standards. No matter what I do,
there will always be something
wrong with me. Some imperfection
that I'll be forced to fix.

I am more than flesh and bone.
I am more than blood and tone.
For years, you've made me sad,
you've made me hate.
And I refuse to die bound to
to a dark fate.

isn’t regret
such a funny thing?
the intense desire
to change what you’ve done
that turns into
self-hate

I don’t really like myself,
It’s true I don’t.
I don’t stand out.
I’m not any sort-of special.
I’m normal.
I don’t have a quality
that makes me stand out.
I change my hair color,
I wear makeup,
And I change who I am.
I try on clothes that make me cry,
because my body isn’t perfect.
I pick out new foundations,
To cover my flaws better.
I give into others,
To make them happy.
I have lost myself, and have found myself.
Still, through all I’ve gone through,
I still don’t like myself.
I feel undeserving of anything,
Useless, worthless, and terrible.

I’m sorry self, you shouldn’t be treated this way.

© Regan