At night she sits forlon
nothing but murkiness surrounds her.
The only company she has are her thoughts.
Most haunt her, taunt her even.
She was a pretty girl, with ugly thoughts.
To most she was invisible
almost as though she hardly exists.
What she didn’t know, was people saw her
people knew she existed.
Girls wanted to look like her
boys wanted to be with her.
But all she saw was darkness,
nothing really.
For her mind hated her
her thoughts controlled her.
It was almost as though she had no thoughts of her own.
Independence wasn’t familiar to her
she lived a life she didn’t even feel like she was living.
Every step she took every breath she made,
was it really her?
Or was it the evil hidden inside of her?
She can’t remember the last time she smiled
even the last time she laughed.
Can you even call your memories memories when all they are is bad?
Most of the time she wished she were dead,
but her thoughts pushed her otherwise.
They didn’t want her suffering to end
it’s what kept them alive.
The mornings were the closest thing you could call enjoyable to her.
Watching the sun rise gave her some unrealistic hope
maybe one day she could know what it felt like to smile with her eyes,
to genuinely smile and mean it.
Most nights were restless
her dreams haunted her more than her thoughts.
Happy images danced around in her head when she slept,
taunting her,
showing her what she would never have.
From the moment she actually understood life she knew hers wasn’t one to live.
“Pointless” she’d call it.
Yet here she is every morning
waking up
getting dressed
going to school
pretending to be normal.
pretending like she didn’t know her life was a dead end
pretending that one day, one day
things would get better.
Deep down she knew
she knew nothing would change.
The worst part of it all was she gave up
she didn’t try to stop the darkness
she didn’t  try to end her life anymore.
What was the point?
She either lived unhappily
or sat in the cold ground for eternity.
At least when she’s alive she can see other people happiness
at least she can smell fresh cut grass
and mornings after it rained.
She could stretch her arms
and scream at the top of her lungs.
She knew her life was no good,
but what’s worse than not living a life at all?