how much i’d give

i wish i could go back to when i had control 

i wish i would just stop filling up this fucking bowl

i wish i could pretend that being big is just not me

i wish i could be happy with the body that i see

i wish i could still lie when my stomach can’t stop speaking

i wish i wouldn’t be so sad for all my hair in grieving

i wish i was as small as two legs being one thigh

i wish i was just better than all my fucking lies

but i’m not, but i’m trying 

but i wish could go back to when i had control

or when ana didn’t feel like she was half my fucking soul

they don’t know

my sister likes to cry 

and well, so does my mom

i don’t show my emotions 

as to pray they get along

because if i start to cry 

then they’ll think something is wrong

i’m supposed to be the strong one

it’s been like this for long

so i cry in my room 

with my back facing the doorway

they’ll walk by, i’ll be sleeping,

they won’t care

like on my birthday

oh well 

then i run to the bathroom, sniffle, and jump in the shower

so that everything will be ok when i cry a little louder

and i do

i play some music that’ll guarantee i’m sad

i listen to some lyrics that remind me of my dad

he is not dead, no, just lives in another house, with a wonderful fiancée that always wears a pretty blouse

and i love her, i’m not lying, i actually really do

but this would be much easier if my parents loved each other too

E.J. is sixteen years old and hopes everyone can be their most honest self because that is what she considers to be true happiness.

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