Damn Near Perfect
She was damn near perfect, the closest I'd ever seen. But she cut her own wrists more than she cut flowers. Because she believed that they deserved to live, but she didn't. She skipped meals more than she skipped when she was five. Because she thought that the only way to attract that boy was to weigh nothing and to act like hell. She spilled too many tears and too little secrets. Because the only way to keep going was to keep it all in until the clock struck 1 am. Because the guy she loved liked mystery and she wanted to be that for him. But she never got that boy. She didn't keep going. Because she overdosed on pills like her old self did on chocolate. But old her is gone. And new her is dead. She was damn near perfect, and in that casket, you could see the faint curl of her lips because the demons were gone. But so was she. And I miss that damn near perfect face.
