My makeup fogs my vision,
What is this madness? Fashion?
Who cares what we look like?
Me.

My broken heart breaks the bottle in my grasp,
Cutting shards of skin in their path.
My depression is my own, I don't know why.

Take it away, the lasting pain,
Am I accepted or rejected?
I'm know I'm new, but I want a chance.
I'm not like the rest.

I dress in black skirts and wear my makeup dark.
My hair is like twigs and my shirt is stained.
I'm normal, I don't have problems.

Losing hair over stress and coughing crimson is natural.
Why am I the only one then, blessed with this curse.
Why must I bare the burden of you all.

I hold up my hands in front of the class,
Showing the crosses freely.
I'm normal, ordinary. I just have these meaningless marks on my hands.
 
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