When you look at me, what do you see? Tell me, please tell me. Each time I look down at my body, or even worse - in the mirror to see my face.. My bones break. I am becoming brittle. Fragile to criticism. Resistant to compliments. I am slowly dying, killing myself. When I look at me, I see 1,000 imperfections. When you look at me, what do you see?
I sit here in silence while my thoughts are loud. I can’t stop thinking about you. What you’re doing, what you’re listening to, what movie you’re watching, what you’re drawing, what your plans are for tomorrow. What your new obsessions are. What new clothes that hang in your closet. I dreamt of you last night, and as I awoke I reached to your side of the bed wanting to kiss you. You weren’t there, realization has finally set in.