This girl I know is pretty.
She's the prettiest girl in her class.
She had her life all planned out. She wore a smile everyday.
Every day her smile would fade a little bit more. She felt insecure as if people were expecting more than what she was. She got these marks on her skin. A few here a few there nothing much.
She would always come to school with more and more on her arms. People would tell her to stop speaking attention. She would get asked why she does that to her body she's not a canvas and there's no paint to write with. She kept skipping school. No one knew why.
One day I decided to ask her about it and she just broke down.
No one knew what went on inside her mind she had no one who understood her no one knows what went on in her pretty little head.
She had no idea what to do next she couldn't handle the pressure.
She wrote me a letter that she mailed to me the night before it was drenched in tears letters smeared across the paper.
All it took was a little more pressure to be more perfect and she snapped she kicked the chair down and suffered here final words "I'm sorry kate I broke my promise".
She died that night. All because she couldn't handle everyone else. Don't push someone to be someone they aren't.
I knew this girl who was the prettiest girl in her class. But she had a dark secret beneath her sleeves. See she was a special artist. Her body was her canvas and her blades where paintbrushes and when she drew a pretty picture her ink ran out instead she climbed onto a chair and made pretty little rope swing she jumped and cried and said sorry but her eyes it was an escape from her own reality. 😔
