She stares at the ground,
Covering those scars.
Those scars she was so confident of,
But she was mad fun of.
Made fun of beating her demons.
How misunderstood.
All those comments,
Breaking her down.
Feeding her demons,
Yet those people make fun of the consequences from it.
How twisted.
YOU ARE READING
Unveiled Poetry
Poetry"How can I help others, she thinks, when I can't even help myself" (***TRIGGER WARNING*** I write my poems to vent about self harm and depression so take care of yourselves <3)
