I thought I was happy
Happy without you
That I would be perfectly okay
But I was so wrong
Without your constant compliments
And longing lustful glances
And occasional inappropriate touches
I don't know who I am
I feel like I'm not beautiful enough
Like I'm some forgettable face in the crowd
Not worth your time
Or your fantasies
So when I starve myself to death
And bleed out in my bathroom tub
I want you to know
That in order for me to see myself how you did
I had to take such extreme measures
Ones that are going to end killing me

to get over writer's block,
write.
not for likes, reblogs,
views, or compliments.
just start.
with words
and nothing more.

losing that longing
for validation
is a liberating cry
that i wish could echo
through these hills,
into libraries
and classrooms
and that notepad
which remains blank
at your bedside.