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Michelle Oct 2012
Ripped.
Torn.
She is bleeding.
Save her!
Save her from the madness,
That has daily controlled her life.

Save her!
She is bleeding...

No one sees her.
No one sees her ripped
No one sees her torn.

She is failing.
Failing but holding on.
Clenching to the air,
To the wind that ever blows by her faster.

She is only 15.
Only 15 and she cannot seem to hold on.

This is her life she has no choice but to take it.
This family.
This love.
This deception.

She is bleeding
As she walks to through the halls.
It is falling from her ears,
Down her neck,
Soaking the top of her shirt.

Drenched, in her own emotions.
In her own lies and betrayal.

She is bleeding and no one sees the red.
The redness that filter through me and you.
She smiles and waves,
And you'll smile back at her.

Never once noticing the blood
That seeps from her pours,
Soaking her clothes,
Drying out her heart.

No emotion.
No noticing anything.
She bleeds until the warmth  is gone.

Cold as the Arctic.
She smiles.

— The End —