In a world lost in progression

i found my depression

it lurked deep within the walls 

in the halls of the house that cried 

"Let me out!"

it was no ghost that haunted me 

but my own self that wanted me 

to give up and let go 

of all the shame, for i'll implode.

Listening to notes reverberating off my cello

remind me of the words that echo 

"you are no good. you are not skinny. you are the worst thing that's ever happened to me"

I cry 

late into the night 

to try and survive my own plight.

why don't you love me like you love him?

 i can't help that i remind you of the time

when your soul realed with the pain i now feel

i am not the man that left you,

simply his daughter 

trying to be with you.

"I am good. I am skinny. I am the best thing that's ever happened."

I remind myself,

it is not you who defines me 

but me who writes my own definition.