Ghosting

She wears a subway token around her neck
to remind herself that she is worthless.
she wears 13 scars upon each wrist
to remind herself that she is worthless.
she coats her face with a sheen of tears
that remind her that she is worthless.
she ghosts through her days with the greatest of ease, this dying little girl on her kamikaze.
so she'll give herself a slash upon each transparent wrist
and she'll swear that she's worthless.

she consorts with skeletons
to remind herself she's good as one.
she sits next to alcoholics on her daily pep talk
to remind herself she's good as one
she sings herself to sleep with a ragged voice
hush little darling, don't you cry. she's the only one to sing her a lullaby.

she glares at the anxiety between her eyebrows
you're not part of me.'
she loathes the memories that clatter between her eyes.
you're not part of me.'
she abhors the disgust in their eyes.
you're not part of me.'

Mary made a little cut, its scar was white as snow. and everywhere that Mary went, her scars were sure to go.