i had a friend who was just like me
we convinced each other we weren't hungry
she taught me how to throw up
i taught her how to be loved
i was her one and only
stayed up all night just to keep her company
in the end, we could've made each other heal
and i clung to the idea that what we had was real
but nobody understood.
when they found out, there was screaming
yelling, and long lectures late into the night
they used her as a lesson
a way to show me i'm "not like that"
a way to convince me i'm "not that bad"
"not that sick"
"not that twisted"

last i heard, lisa is under the ground somewhere
though whether it was by drugs or a knife, i don't know
i wonder if she got a funeral
i wonder if anyone cried