Please Don’t Die: A Poem to a Friend

Came across this poem on Something FishyA today & was touched by how brutally honest it is.

Perfection is a Flaw.

There she stands, feet on ground,
Her flesh nowhere to be found.
Her body wasting itself away,
With less and less every day.

There I see alone she stands,
Her hair thin and strawy strands.
Bones stick out and all that,
But still she says “Help I’m fat”

Her soul crushes more and more,
She deprives herself till her tummy’s sore.
And no one has gone where she has been.
And she says “I won’t be here at sixteen”

Her face is sagging, Lifeless, dead,
And underneath we all dread.
And it is sadder now cos she’s in too deep,
And she needs pills to help her sleep.

She wakes up every morning and breathes a deep sigh,
She looks in the mirror and she starts to cry,
She grabs at the skin on top of her frame,
It’s all fat to her; but she’s wasting away.

One point heavier than a week ago,
No more food No, No, NO!

She looks at herself and she see’s fat,
No more footsteps past her welcome mat.
Her tiny, small sizes don’t even count,
All she wants is a smaller amount.

Her mind smiles at a skeleton like,
“If I look like that then I’d be alright”
Her deep blue eyes filled with tears,
Fat, being her only fears.

“I have to lose more!” As she runs through the rain,
Ignoring all of her hunger pain,
Then she falls to the floor her heart beating no more,
“Will she live?”
“Well I’m not quite sure”

But the doctors managed to revive her now,
No one was quite sure as to how.

And as she stands atop a building,
Her arms outstretched so far.
She looked at me and says “Well watch me be a star”

“Please!” I screeched “Don’t do this!
Perfection is a flaw!”
“No it’s not it’s everything and I want more and more”
“Don’t try catch me” She said as she spreads her wings to fly.
I looked up at her bones and said
“Oh Emma please don’t die.”

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