Beneath her eyes of green, a black beauty lives.
Behind her hypnotizing smile, a young girl still grows.
Inside her heart she knows the truth,
the scars on her arms are proof.

As blood curls down my wrist,
I feel a high that no one could believe.
A sense of self that brings out the little girl in me.

The pain becomes ticklish,
Only to distract me from all the memories
that pour out of this one cut,
That soon trickle down to a river of what had been me.

The tears I soon drown in
Are no longer filled with who I knew
But filled with an empty life,
An empty soul,
Of an empty girl

The next day when I see the scabs,
I rip them off in the bathroom,
So my teachers won't see,
The perfect girl they all thought they knew
Is not what she seems to be.

And whenever I look down
At what used to be my wrist
I see the marks that remind me
Who used to exist.

But now that girl is gone
And she has to keep living on.
Until one day when someone asks her
About the cuts on her wrist,
She can ask them
What would they have done to exist



 
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