The symptoms have diminished,

Yet the feelings are still there.

Everyone thinks I’m better,

But I still need to know they care.


I continue fighting myself,

Each and every day I go through hell.

Happiness equals losing weight.

Dear God, am I ever going to be well?


A part of me clings to the symptoms,

As if to assure myself something is wrong.

Why am I so different than everyone else?

Why don’t I feel like I belong?


The other part of me wants to get better.

Yet I can’t give up on my dream.

It’s the only thing I’m living for,

No matter how dangerous it may seem.



(17 years old)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s