Theres this little girl.

Theres this little girl,
i sometimes pretend thats shes dead,
shes in a pretty little white dress,
but the sleves are drenched red.

i can see her in everything i do,
shes screams that she never needed you,
but in my head she says it with tears,
she cant be more than 15 years.

her hair is matted by the teardrops,
its scary to see anyone like this,
theres pieces off paper around her,
they say i welcome deaths kiss.

theres a man beside her in mind,
hes grabbing her and beating her bad,
hes raping her and leaving her,
this image i see is really sad.

i can see this little girl standing,
shes about 17 years old in my head,
shes still wearing a pretty little white dress,
but the stains are getting more red.

shes standing in a cemetery,
with a black single flawless rose,
shes a person that reimds me,
that im that girl but no one knows.