I have these scars from you.

And I don't mean just you

I mean everyone including you.

I'm too big.

I have an eating disorder.

I ache from depression and battle anxiety.

I will sit there and dread saying these words.

I will be open and honest and no one will even give a shit.

I am tired of pouring out my heart and loving everyone when no one will love me.

You're told to give people chances so why,

when you don't know a thing about me,

does my name leave your mouth?

You may not see my scars but they are there.

3 years ago,

I would sit there

and scratch and scratch and scratch

until my arms and legs released the red flow of misery.

5 years ago,

I woke up Christmas morning

to hear my sister sobbing

and when I ran up the stairs she told me

that she got the call saying that my mother,

who I had just seen withering away the day before,

was dead.

The year before that,

my best friend was placed on suicide watch.

Why did she want to die?

Because of that little bird who would sit on our shoulders

singing songs of abuse and told us that the lyrics came out of your mouths.

And when I was 10,

I was tortured to the point where I was almost placed on suicide watch.

Is it okay for a 10 year old to wish to kill herself?

Is that okay to you?

Everyone was so oblivious for so long.

Those "innocent" children on the tire swing

pushed me until I couldn't take it.

I'm still here, though.

I know everything has made me a stronger person.

I know I can make it and conquer these challenges.

But don't ever tell me that the past doesn't matter because it does still haunt me.

The ghosts of all these damned memories

recite their stories again and again in these walls of obesity.

And they don't just haunt me.

You all haunt me.