Something

I guess it's fine,
That she stands on the scale, 
Wishing the numbers went down in 10s, 
Holding her phone close to her heart, 
Letting the water crash on the tiles,
Of her bathroom as she focuses on,
Her social media feed of the photos, 
Of Instagram models wishing her,
Face and body looked just as perfect,
That she had more followers,
That the boy she liked would,
Finally notice her efforts,
But this isn't a game,
You aren't defined by numbers,
Your heart is more beautiful,
Than the beauty surrounding you,
But your mind is tainted black, 
With all these standards, 
That don't define you. 

She's too focused on, 
The mirrors hanging around, 
That she can't enjoy the lovely day, 
She can't enjoy the presence of, 
Another person without feeling,
Self conscious of the makeup, 
On her face that makes her confident, 
That her natural beauty can't compare, 
To the models on TV flaunting their bodies, 
But she doesn't know that the boy she likes,
Thinks she's perfect, 
That she's good enough, 
Smart enough, 
Pretty enough, 
To be better than those girls in the media, 
But she doesn't see it. 

She could give a list,
Of all her flaws,
Of all the things she wants to change, 
Of all the money she spends,
To work on her appearance, 
All the effort on media to gain likes, 
But she doesn't think of her qualities, 
And all the things she achieves, 
But her mind drifts to those girls, 
To compare to the body that reflects,
Off the bathroom mirror, 
Where she stands on a scale, 
Waiting for the numbers to subtract, 
Cutting down her meals, 
And slicing her wrists in the bathtub, 
Thinking of all the girls that she can't be, 
Wondering in her head like "Why me?", 
Telling herself that she's next to nothing, 
Less than worthless, 
A waste of space in this filled up place, 
Wasting away the air needed for someone else, 
And she feels so powerless and helpless,
Power hungry for people to love her, 
Attention seeking so someone can tell, 
Her of all the things that she don't believe, 
All to crawl back to bed and cry to sleep, 
All to rewrite her suicide note a thousand times,
All to practice how to say goodbye to the ones, 
That gave her hope in thinking that she's something. 

But she is more than just something, 
A small dot upon the surface of a big world, 
With bigger opportunities than she could imagine, 
Of all the people who could love her, 
With this boy who stares at her, 
Thinking how to approach this beauty,
That has consumed his whole universe, 
The darkened tunnel only to lead to this light, 
That is the rare chance to see her smile, 
To see her radiate in happiness, 
Only for her to drift into depression, 
He likes every photo that she posts, 
He's waiting for when she needs someone most, 
Waiting for her to smile just for him, 
Dreaming of the day he holds her close,
Tells her she's worth everything, 
That she's more than just numbers, 
More than just likes and followers, 
More than the stash of notes beside her bed, 
More than the blades hidden under her head, 
More than all the goodbyes she's said, 
More than all the stars above this tiny town, 
Let her know that what he sees is,
Something special rather than the,
Warped mirror she sees,
And all the imbalance between the screens,
Just to show her how to brighten her mind,
Let the scars fade and embrace the hope,
Let her heal the wounds in her heart,
And soon she'll see that she's something.