Why do you keep telling me I’m not ok?
I’m not lying.
Don’t you see me smiling?
Stop looking at me like that.
I’m telling you the truth.
Where’s your proof that something’s wrong,
if I were to believe you?
I follow your eyes to the mirror and look.
How didn’t I notice before?
I’m just walking bones with my skin scratched raw
And the hair I ripped out in a pile on the floor.