At Eighteen.
She was lost,
Bleeding from inside out
With wounds unhealed from her past,
But all they saw was her lustic smile.
She, a beautiful flower drowning in the deep-
Under the grasp of self destruct,
Silently, She called for help but they didn't listen.
All they chose to see was beauty
covering the ugly truth of her imperfect life,
They chose the lies because it was easy,
It is easy to think one is fine, after all
“It saves you the emotional energy they said"
While she sunk deeper into the deep,
a black hole called reality
She awaited for signs that someone noticed
both her pain and joy
But all they chose to see way the joy
Until sadness took that away
Through the unholy vessel called anxiety and,
Depression her ally
She finally lost her spark
And all they chose to see were her beautiful memories (Lies)
Covering yet another part of her ,
Her story and the battles she fought
All on her own