I’m thirteen years old, a ghost in the crowd,
Wearing a smile, but it’s heavy and loud.
In silent corners, I fight with my mind,
In a world that feels cruel, unkind.

Each mark I make is a story untold,
A way to express what I can’t let unfold.
The pain feels like relief, a sharp, bitter sting,
A fleeting escape from the chaos it brings.

Alone in my thoughts, drowning in fear,
A shadowy presence that whispers, “Stay near.”
Days blend to nights, a cycle unbroken,
In whispers of darkness, I feel so forsaken.
Every cut, a different story..