Cry for Help

Never cut nor drew blood,
Still found a way to hurt,
After every argument,
Taking a dangerous tool.

No one knew what she did,
Using the least likely thing,
Taking the cap from a pen,
And using it against the skin.

Only she knew her pain,
Hidden with a sleeve,
Or behind her back,
Never revealing the truth.

Now she lives with regret,
After family and friends noticed,
That she was truly unhappy,
And etched in her arm,
Was a cry for help.