Hey, I just felt like writing this. It was supposed to be a songfic to the song "Weight of the World" by Blue October, but I decided that I should just write a short poem… it's sort of dark, but please bear with me. R&R?

Mind

Words echo through her mind.

Not a single word she hears helps he feel fine.

She's ugly.

Looks kinda cruddy.

She's fat.

Much too big to even look like a rat.

Repulsive.

Feeling compulsive.

Alone.

No longer a clone.

Sickly.

Crinkly.

There's something she isn't.

She isn't eating.

Her skin is no longer healthy. Her blonde hair is no longer as it was.

It's because of what she does.

Her bones no longer stable. If she were to fall down, she might just break down onto the floor.

There is nothing to her, but she can't see it.

He calls her nothing but a whore.

When she looks in the mirror, all she sees is the fatty sorrow beast that stands between it.

Her mother, face strung by a concerned note.

She watches her and the way she is just struggling to cope.

Her mother wants her to eat, but she's scared of what might come.

Her father, the cause of her problems.

He plays the damaging drums.

He yells at her, reminding her that she is a "fat whore."

She ignores the compliments of her friends and continues to hide behind the door.

She knows that everyone lies to make each other happy.

She is never happy.

She feels crappy.

Just hiding behind a mask.

Of a ditzy personality.

People think that she is just that girl who is always full of glee.

She holds her hair back, sticks a finger in and is feeling it all come out.

Onto the bathroom floor, she falls without even a doubt.

Her boniness is revealing with every single bit.

She wishes that she doesn't have to deal with all this shit.

She takes another breath until she hits the floor.

Her heart is stopping as well as the pain she feels no more.

Her mother is standing, screaming out the door.

But Lindsay's not coming out because she was a virgin whore.