Frustration.

I lay there in my bed. I look down at my stomach.
What am I?
I am fat.
I am worthless, I am nothing.

I pull myself up, I think to myself, ways to kill myself.
I grab these blades, I throw them away.
I took the pill bottles and flung them across my room.

I walk over to mirror,
I run my fingers through my hair.
How come, nobody else sees what I do?

I am a girl, trying.
Trying so hard, to be good enough.
For one human being.

A girl who has a addiction, a girl who feel pain constantly.
How come no ones asked me if i need help?
I have, I've been like this for as long as I remember.

I see things in perspectives I shouldn't,
I think about things I know for a fact nobody else thinks about.
I love that thought, I love being me.
But what should that matter, when everybody despises me,
for no apparent reason?