My Secret?

My secret is I'm dying. I'm dying because I don't eat. I always say I'm hungry and tell people that I do eat, they just don't see me. But the truth is that I never eat. Because you call me fat. I'm dying because I cut. I say that I don't, but you don't notice that I hide my scars. It's a wonder what make-up can do. I cut because you never cared. I'm dying because I hate myself. I can't look at myself in the mirror. I wear baggy sweatshirts and jeans or sweatpants every day to hide me body. I don't want to see me. Because you call me ugly. I'm dying because I'm worthless. You say I'm whore, but the truth is I regret sex so much it hurts. I've only had sex once, but I've done other things. And after each time, I cut and cry myself to sleep. I'm dying because I am who I am. You can't accept me. I'm bisexual and that's wrong in you're eyes. You hate my choices and imperfections. I'm dying because of you. I'm dying because I'm not good enough.

Thank you for destroying my world.
And despite all this...I still love you, Mom.
Because I can't help who I am, and neither can you.