This i'd just like to say...

Living in this fat-girl's body I have played the observer role for a large portion of my life.
Meaning there is a lot that I see, that I don't always let on.
There is a lot I have learned.
I see the world and how it works, and don't think I don't notice.
Don't think I don't watch the way you look at me, the way you speak to me.
The thick skin that I have gives the false impression that I don't feel the sting. That I don't break when I get last pick, last choice, last voice.
That I am last pick, last choice, last voice.

But I don't get to express those feelings. I have to put up a strong front.
Solid. Dependable. Friend. Loyal. Proper. Responsible. Good. Smart.
She would never risk. She would never take a chance. She would never be bad, she doesn't have the right.
She doesn't have the right to be naughty. The right to be wrong. The right to laugh at her own mistakes. The right to be wrong on purpose. She's not worthy.

Not even to be pretty? Not even to carry a purse? I had to hide. Style? Of my own? Surely I haven't thought of that before. Surely I dont' think of what I would like to project.
Instead I take what I can get. I wear your clothes because thats what you provide.
No individuality, no choice. No creativity, no choice.

Not really living. Not really me. Who is she?
Furher down, more, more.
Another one.
Another day.
Another one,
Just because.
Im addicted.
Because I can.
Because Im bored.
Because I deserve.
Because I don't care.
Because im searching.
Because I've stopped searching.
Because I'm searching.

Have you found her yet? Is she where you were looking?
Is that even what you were looking for? Wrong way.
Purge. Just the feelings. Purge.

Me, defense, anger, layer, layer, denial, anger, layer, skin. Smile, laugh, joke, Impassionate hugs, Neutral embrace, Friend. Confidant, Funny, Strong, Front. Fake.

Sick. if it, of me, of you, of all.
Sick.