This is my motivation.

I see myself in that girl with scars on her wrist

In pain, but ignored daily by family and friends

And she’s told by others that she can stop anytime she wants.

I see my face when she falls apart behind closed doors

She fades into the background

Never really thought of anymore.

This is my motivation.

That teenage girl staring at the scale is like my reflection

She’s praying and hoping that number went down

(But it didn’t, did it?)

Is there any way she can make herself shrink down,

Down into the size of ant so she doesn’t have to feel anymore?

It’s like a reflection as she decides that cutting out more food won’t work,

So cutting her skin will have to suffice.

This is my motivation.

That boy with the smile on his face every day,

It’s like I’m staring at a picture of myself.

He got pushed down in the hallway again today,

They called him “faggot” and things that are much worse,

If it was me I would have felt the same.

And that gun is smiling at him from across the room again

Is it really that easy? Just one simple flick of the finger and you’re gone?

He found out it is.

This is my motivation,

But it’s also my downfall