Broken Inside

You see the world through glassy eyes

Your stare as dull as rusted nails

Hair once thick and sleek has turned

Into a lank, lifeless mass

Of brown and auburn, tangled together

Like barbed wire on prison fencing.

Your skin has turned pale and wan

It's rosy colour lost beneath the pale

grey pallour you have taken on.

Your ribs are clear through your papery skin

Sharp and jagged, about to pierce through

The thin membrane like white daggers.

The doctor says you're sick, says its

Depression, that these pills will heal you.

But they don't work.

Because it's not a physical ailment that besets you.

You're sick because you're

Broken inside.

The End

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