If you were to read the desperate thoughts, that circle and spin around in my head
Would you consider me as already dead?
Would you burst into tears as you quietly hear
The screams of a heart that is drowning in fear?

Fear of the darkness, fear of being alone,
You would step back in horror at the images shown
Images of young girl who cuts her own skin
With her ribs sticking out as she wants to be thin

You would feel your stomach churn, with your heart left in sorrow
Knowing that broken young girl has plans to **** herself tomorrow
You would grasp at your chest for the pain in your heart
Would be so overwhelming it would tear you apart

But you would have never known of the things that she feels
Every day she is struggling and skips all her meals
She looks at her scars and wants to make more
For she feels some comfort when there's blood on the floor

You would ache at the fact that you ignored all the signs
Of her dying soul, because inside all your minds,
"It's not all that awful, because everyone gets sad"
But little did you know of all the pains that she had

She hides all her emotions, and puts on a smile
But those lovely painted masks only last for awhile
For when she returns to her bedroom at the end of the day
She lies bleeding on the floor, slowly withering away

Once you have read her mind, and have seen her true face
Would you still think she'd make it, or is that not the case?
Would you see her scars and her skin that's too fair?
Or must she truly be dead for anyone else to care?