Im yet skin and bones,

Formed into a sad shape

That tells no glory,

Nor tells fame,

Only damage from years

Of bad regime 

Bad self control

And bad everything

I fill my time with pointless things

Keeping my body from

What it needs

And now when I breathe

I feel pressure in my chest

From what?

I'm not sure,

But will I stand the test of time?

Will I ever rest?

My skin and bones,

Torn and tattered, 

I stop, 

I start,

And nothing changes

Nothing changed

I feel wrong in the mirror,

Wrong in my clothes,

Wrong in my shoes,

Wrong in my home

I feel wrong in my skin,

These skin and bones,

I just want to tear them off

And be left alone