I sit here waiting as time goes by.
I hate when people stare.
They think there’s nothing wrong with me.
“Why is she even here?”
Oh please assume Im here for fun.
Hospitals are oh so grand!
Im not bleeding.
Im not limping.
I sit with me phone in hand.
“What could be wrong with the girl on her phone? “
They whisper thinking I can’t hear.
What you couldn’t know is Im on my phone because Im filled with fear.
Needles and cutting and scraping.
Id rather be anywhere but here.
What you cant see is it hurts.
My blue jeans are causing me pain.
You can’t see inside Im crying because Im here again.
You cant see the frustration because no doctor can tell me why.
You don’t see the scars from previous visits Im always trying to hide.
My body has betrayed me.
Days before it was supposed to be perfect.
Now instead of confident and sexy….
Ill think I don’t deserve it.
Now a fresh scar in progress will serve to keep me distant.
From the man who says Im beautiful nomatter how I twist it.
Im scared and Im alone and I fucking hate my body.
So please don’t judge me while I try not to cry
in this freezing hospital lobby.