despite a tidal wave of friends swearing it, she doesn't think she's beautiful, because of the number on a scale and each scar engraved into her skin, kids would be so cruel as to call her ugly, to call her fat. but saying these things didnt make them any prettier or any skinnier, it made them monsters. It turned them into the voices in the back of her mind telling her not to eat, it turned them into those voices screaming at her to mark her skin,with a mark that meant nothing to that voice but everything to ones who loved her. they'll never understand that she's been through hell and shes still marching through it. But she wont listen to me when I tell her my definition of beauty starts with her name and each and every part of her, because i see her heart before i see her skin, before I see her body, and she's only ever always been amazing.she tends to forget that I've always loved her and no matter how bad she gets, I'll be there through thick and thin, but she wont tell me when she feels like her world is crashing around her, and she wont tell me that shes getting bad again..and all shes ever deserved is love.
