Turning into Porcelion
Sitting all alone
Thinking of him
Jealous of her
She is everything
That I long to be
Running through my
Mind how to make
Myself perfect
How to be his
Weight stops to drop
Small lines of control
Start to form on my ankles
Emotions run far past the
Point of a numb escape
But soon enough
I will be good enough for him
Ill be skinny and happy
Perfection
Completion
But he never leaves her
I’m running out of time
And into destruction
Ill never be perfect
Ill never be his
poem by Victoria Roy
Added by Poetry Lover
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