Here you are, cold as ice.
I know why.
You thought I didn't, but I did.
I knew for so long, but kept quiet as a mouse.
I knew about you and your problems and beliefs.
You thought I didn't, but I did.
I always did.
"I'm not hungry," you'd lie.
I know you lied.
You didn't think I did but I knew.
Believable amounts became always.
Every moment of every day.
I know you wanted to heal.
You wouldn't think I knew, but I did.
I could see it in your eyes.
In your heart.
You wouldn't think I could but I could.
I was always able to read you.
I knew you.
I knew you oh so well.
Too well, to be honest.
I'd debate with myself to call someone, to help or not.
You didn't know I did but I did.
Always.
I saw your bones.
I saw them dent your beautiful skin.
I did.
You never knew I did but I did.
I chose not to call and help you.
I didn't think you needed it.
I didn't want to believe my mind.
I watched you slip away.
Until the end.
I regretted every second I did so.
You never thought I did but I always, always did.
I wanted to help you.
I did, always.
You never knew nor thought but I did.
I saw you pinch and poke at non existent skin.
I did.
Always.
You never thought so but I always did.
I watched, and it hurt.
More then a bullet.
It hurt so very much.
You never knew it did, but it killed me.
You had such a warm heart, but such a disgusting body.
You were way to skinny.
Unhealthy.
I always thought that.
You couldn't read my mind.
But I always did.
That fake smile plastered on tour face.
What an believable mask you had.
But I never believed it.
Ever.
I knew you were so desperate.
And it went way to far.
I always knew.
You never thought I did.
But...I did.
Now looking at you, dressed in white.
And everyone else in black.
Knowing your now an angel.
And it was practically suicide.
I hope you can hear me.
I wanted to reach out to you.
To help you.
To help your disorder.
Maka.
You had anorexia.
And when I tried the most to help...
It was already too late.