Her smile is big but her eyes are glazed over.she might be smiling but inside she's dying.She comes home every night and can't help but crying.you think the bracelets and long sleeves are for fashion,but in reality they cover the cuts and scars that berate her arms.
Her smile is big but her eyes are glazed over. she might be smiling but inside she's dying. she's standing over her sink crying, the only thing she can think of is dying.Her hands are shaking,her body is aching. humongous bags circle her tired,puffy,red eyes. Her heart is aching from the pain she endures. her arms are a canvas and the blade is her paintbrush. She watches as the blood pours out like a river into the bathtub.
Her smile is big but her eyes are glazed over. She might be smiling but inside shes dying.She's deathly pale and her hair's a mess.She can't get the voices out of her head, it seems as if the world is putting her to a test. If it were a test, then she must be failing. If life were a game, then she already lost.She wishes she were dead, so she stands on a chair and ties the rope around her neck. This is it world, now she's greeting death.
