A girl of only 17,
Her life not even half lived.
She was so confused.
She almost never knew what to do.
From years gone past,
She had memories that would last.
Engraved in her sole,
And worn with shame.
She was more scared of herself,
Then everything combined.
She was perfectly fine,
In the eyes of her peers.
They didnt know of her fallen tears.
They wouldn\'t understand,
The marks left by her hand.
As the week went on,
She only worsened.
So many emotions
Were buzzing in her head.
She was so confused.
And just needed to feel.
From the shelf she took,
A sharpened knife.
As dragged is across her arm.
It burned and stung,
Just as she had felt,
So many times before.
Her mind started to clear.
She felt so much better.
The knife was cold as it touched her arm.
She felt in control over everything.
Her arm began to bleed,
As she reached for the towel.
She was happy again.
It was all back to normal.
Her sleeves covered her pain.
As she left her room.
No on knew what she was hiding.
A girl of only 17.
