Out of touch with reality

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.
drop 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.