An Epic Poem of True Proportions

I will not begin with,

“Once Upon a Time,”

To paint this as a fairytale,

Would be a sin, a crime,

Nay, this is a story,

Tried and true,

New and old,

Borrowed and blue,

This is the saga of a simple young girl,

Quite average, quite plain,

Her mind unfurled,

Her thoughts untame,

Each morning at 10,

She’d awake with a start,

Clutch her chest and sigh,

For still beating was her heart,

She was still alive and well,

Much to her dismay,

For she didn’t think she could face,

Another dismal day.

Her peers were always,

Quite buoyant, quite wired,

Her permanent façade was,

“I’m fine, simply tired.”

While this may have been true,

She was quite exhausted,

She kept in her real feelings,

Let her mind be accosted,

By doubts and by fears,

By self-hatred and loathing,

By bottled up tears,

Staining her clothing,

While other children feared,

The monsters under their bed,

She envied their innocence,

For her monsters were in her head.

While outside threats,

Can be awful and grim,

The most horrible demons,

Come from within,

While there were many factors,

That caused her weak state,

Society and media,

Instilled the self-hate,

The biggest offender,

Knocks the rest right off the shelf,

Her greatest enemy was simply,

Herself.

“Now how could this be?”

You ask with a gasp,

A cold and hard past,

Chemical imbalance, perhaps,

It’s hard to keep fighting,

When your opponent is in the mirror,

It’s hard to stand up,

When you’re pushed down by fear,

17 long years,

This girl has endured,

Pushing through a sickness,

That can be helped,

But not cured,

She writes and she dreams,

To escape for awhile,

She fashions a mask,

Hides behind a fake smile,

It’s difficult to dream,

And then wake up to this,

To stumble out of sleep,

Away from serenity and bliss,

But it can’t rain forever,

I promise you, there’ll be an end to this strife,

You’ve come this far, my dear,

Don’t yet give up on life.

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