Skinny By Bille Ellish: People say I look happy, just because I got skinny.

Nothing goes to plan as I reach for it.
Like a broken vase, my imperfections show - but many are blind.
My will bleeds off my bones as
The world leeches off my will.
Yet, they see the skinny me.
They call him - the new me.
“You look pretty," they say.
“You must be happy," they say.
I'm just another image to feed their obsession.
So, I cry.

Falling for him was sudden.
Not like the world shifting away from me,
But like the world having vivid colours and
Vibrant sounds - New life.
He was a stranger that became more than a friend
In a few days.
I thought that was a good thing.
The sign, my sign - the epitome of me in him.
Right at the cusp of all - the climax of love,
He dropped me off - a broken toy, discarded and forgotten.
I cry, reaching out once more, asking the deaf wind,
Do you cry? Cry for me, for us.
Such a skinny love I clung to.

Now I look back, footprints in the sand,
Watch as blood wells up from the dark imprints.
I look forward and there they all are, asking
“Who are you?"
Breaking and falling within and without myself,
I cry out, “the old me, the real me, the true me."
They turn away, leaves blown away by gleeful winds.
And I shrink, retreating and wilting, becoming skinnier.
I'm a stone eroded and chipped of by meticulous winds.
Blame me not for I struggle to see the beauty in me.

I draw a smiley face in the sand, an expression alien to my features.
And I cry,
Tears washing my ashen face clean.
The tears, now in the sand, harden the smile to a frown.

Then I remember,
I never asked anything of you.
I always loved you.
I never left you.
I always stayed with you.
My love is gone and it seems
I did this wrong to myself - skinny and lost.
© melodiousphoenix