𝙇𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝: 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙮

i

the girl in the mirror I look at my wrist

I see crystals of red

I look at my ankle

I see crystals of red

I tell myself

It’s what I deserve

I punish myself

It’s what I deserve

I look into the mirror

Flinch and look away

The girl in the mirror

I wish she would go away

I look into the mirror

I hate the girl I see

I wish she was thin, pretty, smart

I wish she was anything but what she is now

The girl in the mirror

Has crystals of red dripping down her wrists

I tell myself

It’s what she deserves

ii crimson raindrops I find comfort in the pain

the agony, the rage, the electricity

that runs rampant through my veins

as I slowly reach out to the darkness

The crimson raindrops on my skin

seem so familiar, a part of my skin

the pain welcomes me home

I find comfort in the pain

The pain rushes through my blood

darkness just out of my touch

the crimson raindrops glisten on my hand

I find comfort in the pain it sends

The crimson raindrops

look beautiful on my skin

it gives me a reason to bring them back again

for I find comfort in the pain it brings

iii

Am I even alive at this point

Days come and go with a flash

Desires so close to grasping yet so far away

Who am I?

Essays, projects, exams

Anxious all day

Is this all I'm meant to do?

Numb, lonely, burnout

Cry log fills up more each day

Will I ever find friends who care?

Jealousy, rage, loathe

Competitiveness takes an ugly turn

Is their win actually my loss?

In the mirror, all I see is fat, fat, fat

It is not a bad word, it is only an adjective

So why does it hurt me so?

Am I living?

“No, just surviving” , I cry

“No, just surviving” , they mock