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One Day Closer to Recovering
There’s this girl that I know
Better than I know myself.
Every time I look into her eyes,
I can see her past,
And her pain.
I see this girl every day.
Her hair is a color so uncommon that
People dye theirs trying to get it.
Her eyes are such a beautiful color that
It looks like God took the earth’s most valuable treasures
And put them in the irises of her eyes when he made her spirit.
This girl is beautiful,
But she doesn't know it.
This girl used to hate herself.
She was captivated by the way the light would shine
On liquid diamonds and rubies;
And she always knew where to find them.
This girl scrutinizes herself in the mirror,
Looking for any imperfections under her skin
Because she’s convinced she’s not good enough.
This girl depends on a scale for self confidence
That will never come because
Her eyes are always lying when she reads ‘obese’
Instead of 142.7
This girl will try to get better,
She just doesn't know it yet.
I know it.
I see her every day.
I look into her clear, teary eyes.
I know them better than the back of my hand;
I know how they’re blue,
But if you look closer you can see the silver streaks,
And the small emerald flecks that surround her pupil like dust.
I know the way they scrunch up in the corners when she’s laughing,
And in moments, like right now,
When her eyes remain emotionless
And she looks straight into mine
And I can see how glassy they are from the bare emotions that
Just can’t stand to be contained.
I hold our eye contact,
While I’m just watching her,
Watching her emotions,
But I can tell she’s giving it her all to look at me.
She feels so much guilt
For every mistake she’s ever made,
And she’s just barley holding on.
I tell her.
She looks away
And a wary smile begins to tug at the corner of her lip,
Because that’s all she could do to try and convince me
That she believed what I had said.
I know that she didn't,
Because that smile quickly disappeared
When I met her eyes again
And saw one lonely tear
Run down the curve of her turned cheek.
I tell her,
And she nods at me,
But she looks back at me
With that exact same look she always does,
And I know that those words are a halfhearted lie
For the both of us.
I finally can’t take this torture any longer,
And I put the mirror down.
I am in the arms of redemption.
Every day I look into that mirror,
I see this girl value herself a little more;
Every day I look into that mirror
And tell her that she’s beautiful,
And that she’s loved,
I see her believe me a little more.
Now our phrase
Isn't a halfhearted lie,
But a lifeline.
This girl isn't better yet;
But she is one day closer to recovering.
And I know she'll make it there.
Even if she doesn't know it yet.