Its her birthday
She sits alone
If you take a glance at her eyes
You can tell she's empty
Engulfed with sadness
But if you greeted her
She would seem rather upbeat
You would never know
The meaning behind the scars you can't see

You wonder what you see
But when you go to a flower garden
You pick the most beautiful flower
Certainly not the flower that is dying
When you walk past broken glass
You don't pick it up but you walk past it
And you dare wonder how I arrived to this place

You look at her as;
Perfect
Flawless
Smart
But she is breaking into despair
It is written on her wrists in bright red
Your words transported onto her in bright ink
For it is too late
She has gone into the despair of her mind
Atlas as you reach your hand into the water
She has already been at the bottom since the beginning