She dresses in black,
she covers her so called "scars" with makeup.
She sulks and writes poetry.
She cries and cuts.
She is a teenager.
She is a liar.
She is so lost,
maybe she was raised by bad parents,
or maybe she got mixed up in the wrong crowd.
Look at all the people staring at her,
She looks in the mirror for just a second,
Just to see if she's all there.
Just to see if she's not broken yet.
I see her, and it's me.
 
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