Through the tears at night I wonder about my life.
Why am I the way I am?
You see the problem with me is...
the words used by people to describe me without having walked in my shoes.
To the unknown eye I am fat and lazy for what they don't know is I have an eating disorder,
I am also closed off and rude, but they don't know that I write everything I feel down because it hurts me more to tell them,
To them I am not anything but mean, when in reality I'm as nice as can be.
To you I seem fake but I'm actually just friendly.
They say I'm a loner and don't care but I suffer from depression and anxiety.
The problem with me is I am judged by my cover not by my content.
There is so much more to me then what you see.