The fat lady looked in the mirror and wept her private battle barred from the world. her salty tears across her skin, expressing her pain from inside to out. this internal struggle would tear her apart. The skinny one moved her food apart for mercy her body wept how much she ate was he struggle her bones almost visible to the world letting her secret out so thin and pale was her skin the cutter stared intently at his skin he felt as though he were coming apart quickly he pulled the gleaming knife out across his skin he drew the blade, and his arm wept now these marks, which he hid from the world revealed his inner struggle. The small boy caught up in the struggle. The bruises dark , across his skin. He thought this was the way of the world. THe angry sing of the belt ripped him apart He hid in the corner Fearing he'd be found out. From the cabinet she took the bottle out, Quietly to avoid a struggle. To have the euphoria, her her body pleaded and wept she held the cool bottle against her skin and pulled the cork and bottle apart she drank contededly and was prepared to face the world. He wanted to be far from this world All he waned was to escape, to get out. He hated life and wanted to be apart from that which was such a struggle. As he fell from the bridge, he felt free of his skin and when they found him they wept. They were too much, these internal struggles. They bound us in our skin And for this, i wept.