Why have I been given labels?

I wake up every morning. 

Not able to recognize who I am.

Tears coming down my face,

Pictures of skinny models all over the place,

The fear of going to school and facing mean comments about me is a disgrace, 

Always asking myself the question why? *Pause*

Why me?....

Why do I always have thoughts of skipping meals?

Why couldn’t I just be a pretty girl, like the others in my class?

Why do I have to eat lunch in the bathrooms?

Why is it that they hate me,

Why have they given me all these labels?

Fatty

Elephant

Hippo

I try to tell myself that none of these are true,

Yet I still walk around with a big jacket covering my stomach and it feels like those words are carved into my skin.

Maybe just maybe they all will finally win. 

Maybe if I just ended it all, 

I can’t take it anymore.

They look at me like an animal, 

Like a chubby Hippo.

Like something, they can just body shame.

I hate the way I look, but I am the one to blame,

Judged because of how much I eat, the way I look in a dress.

This complete situation is a mess.

They think it’s only a game.

They don’t know how hard it is to suck in all those mean comments, 

Come home to tears that have been held up for the entire day,

And even question if I should eat today because of the way my stomach is growing.

I’m simply so confused about what they need to gain. 

I wake each morning in pain.

No one to talk to because nobody will listen.

No guide was ever was given,

No family in my corner.

Maybe if I take one bullet to my head,

It simply may ease all of the pain, and I’ll be happier in heaven.