They mark up her skin,
Like a pen on a paper.
But she always covers them,
Like an artist hiding her work.
Her skin is her canvas,
Her ugly
Ugly
Canvas.
But she doesn't want sympathy,
Nor sorrow.
Because she did it on her own.
She doesn't feel bad for herself,
Really.

But why be so rude?
Why make her feel worse,
Then she already makes herself feel?
Is it because its something new to you?
Who should feel ashamed for going through a struggle?
No one.
But who doesn't feel ashamed for being different?
Everyone.

Shes been there before.
Had everything taken at one point.
Felt like she had nothing,
But a stranger in the mirror.
She doesn't recognize this human.
What have they done?
What have they become?
Why?
She knows the questions,
But never the answers,
Because she's not sure if shes still herself.
Is she still in the right body?
Dreaming?
Imagining things?
She wishes.

But please don't make others feel worse.
For being who they are.
Because even though you think they can,
They really can't control themselves sometimes.
So think before you speak.
And think before you judge.
Because one day you could be in the same struggles
Wishing the same things she did.