For everyday, she cakes her face
With a coated mask.
She does it to hide the pain.
Otherwise, she feels attacked.

She feels that pressure everyday.
She has to laugh.
Even if the joke is mundane.

And everyday, she hides behind a fake, withering smile.
But by night, it turns into her twisted insides; vile

She's not herself.
But she is her.
Her personalities fuze
And merge.

She's done.
She's relieved.
She draws in her final breath.
As she drowns herself
In a liquid ruby red.

Her lips whispering softly.
Her pain waves coming deep.
Her wrists shouting violent blood.
Soaking through, and
Now seeped.

She let's go, as she feels the little girl she used to be die.
She slips away.
Unaware and induce.
And off of her tongue
Escapes a goodbye.