The Rain On Monday

Written words are the only thing my mind can find ease in.

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95. Obsessions

I stare at my reflection in the mirror and I don't like

what I see.

I try and I try, but yet I still hate that I'm me.

I cake makeup on my face and dress

like a star;

I try so hard to be perfect, but still I'm

so far.

I nibble at my meals and stare at my plate;

I focus on my image and obsess over

my weight.

I pretend that I'm happy and fake every smile --

but nobody knows I've felt dead

for a while.

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