As a child I was always viewed as shy not wild and active like the rest but for me that was for the best .

As I grew my emotion became new the feeling of company was a worry but everyone else was in such a hurry to notice my struggles .

As I teen I got used to the streams of tears and endless waves of fears and constant eyes feeding me with lies .

aren’t you counting the amount of time she frowning can’t you see she not okay she struggling to find her reason to stay .

Yes I know she says she fine she repeates that line every time someone asks but hopes somone sees the signs .

She struggling to decide wether she wants to die or if it’s all a lie ? she just doesn’t want to live in pain but the thought make her feel Insaine .

You see now I’m older I still check the chart and see the scale I knew I shoudnt of ate that tart I just wish my clothes were tighter that I was a little bit lighter .

I’m a mess I wish I could think less and maybe get some real rest and not be wasted my nights stairing at the wall or feel like I’m always pacing down the halls of my mind trying to find some peace .

My arm became a jigsaw with scars piecing together my hurt as the red decorated my shirt .

I know I should find a way to stay calm so I don’t cause an alarm , I never intended to harm but found comfort in the action but felt the guilt when seeing other people reaction .

My heart grew heavy cause I was never smart maybe every action I was pulling myself apart .

( my bad for bad punctuation but in a bit of hurry and didn’t want to get writer block so just wrote so apologies)