Starving For Perfection

Screaming in silence,
Esteem has been slain.
Helpless and hopless.
Only blood for my pain.

Fragile like glass,
But appears strong like steel.
My looks are decieving.
No one knows how I feel.

They tell me I'm perfect.
There's nothing wrong with me.
I nod so they believe me.
I don't want their empathy.

So what if I starve?
What if I'm gone?
I'm doing this for me,
Myself, and I in the long run.

I just want to be the best,
Not a shadow of perfection.
They tell me I shall not succede.
But I'll change my sad reflection.

And that is what I want.
No that is what I need.
To not be jealous of others,
But to have others jealous of me.