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.