True Danger.

While I am on the computer I try to think of things to help me.
I listen to Taylor Swift.
She always makes me cry.
Cry or die a little.
Not because she's bad. She's beautiful. I don't know why I cry...
I find a Twitter page.
Anorexia Tips and Hints..
A help page?
Pictures of girls skinnier than sticks. The undead in lip gloss.
Scrawny as hell.
Then I remembered what people said.
Scrawny. Me.
Oh no.
I walk over to my mirror. Is that what I look like?
I warily gaze at my reflection and I see what the pictures are.
my cheekbones stick out...
But my thighs don't have gaps.
My wrists are twigs...
My stomach isn't flat.
What am I?
Who am I?

A worthless pawn to Lea?
A form of torture to myself?
My biggest plague is that I exist.
As a pawn. A burden to those around me.