Bad expressionist

Nobody talks about the negative,
even when it clogs every other positive.
Put on your best fake smile to please,
don't watch the happy ones, hide your jealousy.
Close your bedroom door and begin to cry,
you only feel better when you use a knife.
Wake up the next day hoping for change,
look at the mirror and all you see is strange.
If I exercise will I still be the same,
at least that's what everyone keeps saying?
Your mother tells you that's too revealing,
she covers your body up as well as your feelings.
Walk into the school halls and notice the stares,
"Their invisible, they're not even there"
my self-conscience adds,
even she knows how to drive me mad.
Wishing for the light at the end of the tunnel,
walking at the edge careful not to stumble.
Your only friend asks what's wrong,
"Nothing" you reply "It's just my stupid mom"
She gives you the number of her therapist,
"No, thank you," you say,
"I'm just a bad expressionist."