I kneel down before the porcelain throne,
Seeking the body shape you think I should own.
I’m all alone.
Counting calories, watching my weight,
Trying to lose the figure you hate.
Slam my fist in the mirror
Because I can’t find “You’re perfect.”
How much more can I lose? Will it ever be worth it?
See the blood on my hand, something new is awoken.
It’s the same blood I had back before I was broken.
My reflection falls down, but my eyes still last
They hold the ghost of a happier me in my past.
A shard of glass is the pick
To the lock
On the chains
That you’ve bound me in.
Light the wick,
Start the clock,
Fight the pains
This time I will win.
Now I’m free.
And I’m not perfect.
I’m just me.
But I’m beautiful.