Late at night,
She sits in the dark,
Holding the blade,
While carving her arms.

She cries for her mommy,
Who's never there.
She looks down at her legs,
That were once so bare.

She cuts them so deep.
So deep that all she can see is blood.
She lets out a slight sigh,
And makes another cut.

She cuts once more,
Until she can't see her skin.
She feels so sore
Yet she can't hold it in.

They all think something's wrong with her,
Because she doesn't fit in.
She's just a different kind of beautiful
But it's withheld from within.

Her demons have pushed her beauty away.
So far away that she won't listen
When he says
"You look beautiful every single day"

She's now covered in blood;
That is the blackest shade of red.
For the hate
She has in her head.

Her heart is ripped at the seams
And tainted black
With a hint of green.

The green being
All that she inhales
To make the demons and the pain,
Go away.

Do you understand?
Do you understand what it's like to be like me?
Do you understand what it's like to feel alone,
To cry yourself to sleep at night and watch the stars shine while you wish you were as beautiful as the light everyone else is?
Do you understand what I wish I was compared to everyone else.
I wish I was beautiful the way she is.
Because I may be beautiful to you but to everyone else I am not.
I am defiantly not to myself.
Why can't I be good enough for you? Or to the world. Why can't I be good enough for me?
Do you really understand what it's like to have friends who say their there but aren't?
Or do you understand what it's like to have people stare at your arms and look at you in discust?
That you may not be human but a dead soul trying to run out? Maybe your dead on the outside but fighting on the inside.
Maybe I'm the only one.
But one day you will all understand.
Maybe when I'm six feet under the ground and you don't hear nothing but silence, and birds whistle in the morning mist.
But I showed death on my wrist.