Seventy- Five Pounds;
Wired on a porcelain frame, she stands five feet four inches tall.
She wears a smile, her tensed ribs aching.
Just another thousand crunches, she says.
Face distraught, despondent too, as she returns back to consciousness,
She wonders what its like to be in another girl’s shoes.
She’s got something to say.
She wants to complain.
She’s planning her days; she grabs a handful of pills,
To attempt to ease her pain that nothing can heal,
The voices still remain, haunting her thoughts every day.
She lands on her knees and sends up her prayers,
That she’ll be brought to a place where Ana’s not there.
She’s got something to say.
Lip’s pursed tight.
She walks in to the limelight.
I’m an actress, she thinks to her self;
Made to play the parts.
She awakes from her bitter dreamland and needs to escape.
She tries to push Ana out of her thoughts,
She longs to see her rushing blood.
Crimson scars pattern her fragile corpse.
She stares in to the mirror.
She imagines what she used to be,
And begins to cry.
Thinking of how she tried to try,
but now it’s already too late.
Trapped, unable to escape;
She has died, and Ana remains.
She’s got something to say.
The battle ends tonight.
Overall it’s a race to win,
And the trick to it all is to not stop until you reach the end.
Seventy- Five Pounds in a hospital bed;
She recall’s over the words one of her friends once said.
“Please, stop now. Before it’s too late.”
She wants to say she’s sorry, and that it was her fate.
Seventy-Five Pounds in a hospital bed.
She’s got something to say.
Melodies of words cascade in her head.
I’m an actress, she says.
And my life’s just a game,
But the script is now over.
I no longer remain.