Staring myself down in the mirror that brings me down,
I dream of the girl that I should be.
The girl that everyone will want to look at and see.

Having my own war against myself,
And the battles take place on the kitchen table,
Where I deprive myself of nourishment.

Standing on the scale,
Where my suicidal thoughts come out,
Its hard for me to even read the numbers,
Because I am in such denial.

Always wondering why I was born this way,
Why I just can't accept my flaws and love them for what they are.

But no I must keep fighting my inner war,
Until I reach that unreachable goal.

And if you were to ask me to draw what I would like to see,
I would only draw a few very thin lines,
And so you will finally see,
It is a stick figure I wish to be.
 
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