My image despises me
A coniving little creep
Floating into my life, assulting my eyes
My happiness, my pride
Because it reminds me of all that I am not
And you tell me that I'm beautiful
And I know that you're trying to be kind
Trying to help, to get me to smile, to keep me from
Becoming like those skeletal girls who haunt the minds
(And reflections) of all of us
Who they tell us are close to death, are already ghosts
Pale and cold and longing
(but it's already too late)
Because would this girl on the other side of the mirror lie?
