"I'm fine," she says with a halfhearted grin.
"I'm fine," she says again, waving away a helpful hand.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, several minutes later.
"I'm fine," she whispers, wiping her face.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she says moments after the cry leaves her lips.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, sinking to the floor.
"I'm fine," she tells herself, shaking in a ball.
"I'm fine," she repeats, picking up the razorblade.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she says to her concerned family.
"I'm fine," she insists as those who love her worry.
"I'm fine," she says to anyone who listens.
"I'm fine," she lies as she slices her wrists.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she cries, sobbing on the bathroom floor.
"I'm fine," she wails, but only in a whisper.
"I'm fine," she mutters, watching the blood leave her wrist.
"I'm fine," she practices, stepping from the room.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she assures the world outside.

Alone, when you walk the halls.
Alone, when you people are around.
Alone, when you cry.
Alone, when you break.
Alone, when you die.

Left behind, bruised and broken.
Emotions inside, never cry.
Sleeves remain down, until tonight.
No fear, though I'm not alright.
"I'm fine," though I'm really dying.
Look in my eyes, oh so dull.
I was fat, look at me now.
I still don't eat, I'm becoming skinny.
Am I your perfect princess, really?
My thoughts, remain suicidal.
I will never be someones idol.
I know, because I already tried.

I'm that one girl, who sits in the back of the class.
Just so I can go unnoticed, make my life last.
I always hide in my room.
Just so I don't get beaten, and bruised.
The kids at school, call me worthless, and stupid.
The teachers, say I don't try, but I do try...
I try my hardest at everything, but they don't seem to notice.
My sibling's all they do is torture me.
As if they feed off of my pain, and fear.
I'm that one girl, who only wears ear buds.
To block out the voices of anger, and hurt.
My arms, are not that clean, or neat.
I'm not pretty, and when I say that I mean it.
Maybe I'm not worth it, maybe I'm just a piece of *******.
I am stupid, and I have come to believe it.
Maybe I really don't try hard enough, and I am not trying harder.
My sibling's can feed off me all they want, I don't care anymore.
I've taken my ear buds out, and I'm listening to the screaming of hate.
Yeah my arms are cut, and they will always be cut.
Yes I am not pretty, and that's the truth.
But I am me, and that's okay.

I'm a ghost and everyone knows it.
Peoples words flow through me at high speed.
People walk through me as if I wasn't there.
Who am I? Who was I?
Is this even real or is this just another dream, another nightmare?
Another death, or a new beginning?
The roses blossom and everything starts to get better.
But one day a twister hits and I the ghost is blown to bits.
My wrists are bleeding, tears a flow.
As I say to myself "Its time to go back to my world of other ghosts."
I say "Its been fun.  I'll miss you all."
As I close my eyes, and i fall.
But this isn't goodbye, and that's all.

Suicide, Suicide be my guide.
Show me if its time.
In my room.
These retched cries.
Hear me scream, hear me cry.
My thoughts that torture me.
The ones I hide.
Tattooed on my arms.
The scars of a thousand knives.
My tears have finally run dry.
As I cry, on this silent night.
Suicide, Suicide. be my guide.
Show me if its time.
To stay or to die.

My last day I had to live.
Was all peace and quiet.
Before they came up to me with a rope.
Saying run and jump like in the movies.
An hour later they came again.
Handing me a knife.
Saying just a little cut or three.
Two hours later.
They came up to me.
Handing me duct tape.
Saying try not to scream.
Four hours later.
They never came back.
It was just me and things they left
I tied the rope around my neck.
And duct tapped my mouth.
Trying not to scream.
I took the knife, and started to bleed.
I ran and jumped, just like a queen.
Before I knew it.
I was gone.
And all I heard
Was a sad, sad.
Song.

Listen, cant you hear?
Her cries? Her Fears?
Cant you see?
Her arms?
All bruised and ******?
She doesn't speak.
Not a word. Not a peep.
All she does is writes in her diary.
While she sits in the back of class.
Hoping the teacher won't notice her.
Hoping that he doesn't care.
Hoping that one day.
The world would be fair.

We all have our scars,
Yours on the inside,
Mine on my arm,
We all have our stories,
Yours you share,
Mine I try and hide,
We all have our day,
Mine just so happens,
To be fifty years before yours

Waves crashing, upon my heart,
All I've come to know, was ripped apart,
My clean arms, have bleeding scars,
My thoughts, have been butchered,
Emotions never ending, bottled up inside,
The screams you never hear, the ones I always hide,
In this lonesome room, yet another,
Suicide.

They say to hide my scars
But I don't want too
They say it's OK
But it's really not
They say I'm crazy
But I'm completely sane
They say that I don't try hard enough
But I try my hardest at everything
They say I don't know what pain is
But I fight battles everyday
They say who am I battling
I say myself...

I wanna take a leap.
I wanna down a drink.
I wanna run away from this sickness that tortures me.
I'm wallowing in the screams.
Not aloud to cry.
So I make up with a sharp knife.
Grabbing my last hope of relief.
I take my pen.
I tear it apart 'til there's nothing left but the spring.
Letting, letting  the blood flow hiding it with a white sheet.
Staining my shirt sleeve a crimson red.