Out of touch with reality,
she cant ever tell what real
Is it the voices inside her head
or the knife made of stainless steal.
The voices dont leave me alone,
they're always present
some times they are kind
but mostly quite unpleasant
Food is not your friend
Only 500 calories per day
dropp the food, step away
Your not going to get thin that way
She screams most the time
normally when im alone
I go quiet, curl up and hide
I break, im not made out of stone
I hide it behind laughs and smiles
Although its going to end in fatality
I can't tell whats real or not
i told you.. Im out of touch with reality
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem