Scars On My Wrist

every time I look in the reflecting glass
I see myself as a mistake,
I’m not thin enough
Inside me, I have so much hate

I have scars placed up and down my wrist.
It reminds me of all the pain I live.
And how I’m treated like shit.

But makeup these days
Show how people are easily fooled
With one believable smile,
Nobody suspects a thing at school.

Long sleeves and jackets cover my pain.
I cry and cry at night
Nobody feels the same.

I don’t eat that much anymore,
Because I want to look like a model.
All the girl in the magazines.
I want to be like them,
I want to look beautiful.

Whenever I eat I feel like a failure,
So I harm myself
To teach myself a lesson.

Nobody will ever accept me in public.
If I’m not who I am.
I have to act like someone else
Just to have friends.

But then again,
Why be like ‘them’
I should just be myself.
And not care what other people think.
Why should I have to be someone else, just to be ‘loved’
Our world is just like Hollywood.

So judgmental, and always in your face,
Watching who dates who, and who loses the weight.
It’s a disgrace, and such a waste of beauty,
How magazines tell girls what to wear,
And what to look like.

Everyone out their,
Is always being pressured.
Because their not ‘perfect’
Why be labeled?
Why not be different?
We should be who we want to be, and help make a difference.