I'm not perfect.
I just want to be pretty.
With beautiful hair, and pretty eyes.
Able to wear shorts and not look at how fat my thighs are.
Being able to feel your bones and not fat.
To be perfect.
So to be perfect, I will be
Bulimic, then I'll be skinny right?
To starve myself.
To never eat.
To pretend I'm not hungry.
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Nothing
Poetryshe pretended she was okay because she didn't want them to know how sad she was [highest ranking: #90 poetry]