She wakes every day at six o'clock sharp.
She continues her decent into the harsh reality of her world.
She'll shower and clothe and spend half her time without tears.
When she perfects her look, making sure she's hidden well, her day will finally begin.
Kisses goodbye and a morning orange later, the trip down the hill fulfills her.
Steps of a feather with hair in her eyes, music covers her heart.
Of course, the bus, almost forgotten, full of her precious tormentors.
Ten minutes later and fists in her mittens, her nightmare finally comes true.
Water bottle in hand, steps down the hall, science is where it all starts.
Lecture after lecture, outbursts galore, you'd never suspect a thing.
Algebra, resentment, knowing the outcome, books on the shelf and a pen.
Her stare, locked on like she's hunting for prey, the victim warily sings.
The song of her dreams, nightmares and hopes, almost everything turns black.
The poor little thing, unknowing to event, sings without her consent.
A bells breaks her mind, as do the laughs and her fellow dear peers.
Everyone seems to follow her feet, bringing books and snacks as their feast.
She sits in her desk, watching her prey as they swallow every last crumb.
A whisper that nobody else can hear, crawling down into her ear.
As the period ends, so does her heart, bringing her to the wall.
Her friends clamoring, pizza or something else?
They walk to their class as loud as can be, down to the sweltering labyrinth.
The talk she regrets, bringing memories down, they learn everything about her.
Rushing down the hall behind her twirling and lovable friends, a shelf to contain their things.
She sits at the table taking water and air, smearing food all over her tray.
Two more classes until new lockers are rewarded, her good behavior is paying off.
Running on the track, her mind is all but blank, keeping her eye on him.
Slugging up her hill, dragging a bag of rude reminders, herself in her room.
She does her forced duty so she has something to present, finishing everything with ease.
The evening goes on, diet soda and an orange, sleeping until dinner is called.
She eats, every morsel, damn near licking her own plate clean.
Desert, no wonder, she wants to refuse, her mother breathing down her neck.
She breaks and takes it, eating even more, savoring the ever-longing taste.
Drinking three full cups of her ice cold pleasure, she once again heads to the tub.
Shower once more with music and more, fingers and a toothbrush down her throat.
She's done, just routine, no more worries in her head and no calories for her tonight.
Nine o'clock come too fast, more kisses with pills and a hug.
Back in her territory, she takes off her mask, uncovering her discreet and filthy lies.
But as she leaves, she grabs some tissue, quietly stealing the tape.
Locked in her room once again, like before, she sits upon her glorious throne.
Music turned on with some fans and a lamp, her night coming to a close.
But first, as the whisper had told her to do, she brings out that poor dirty thing.
Dragging it deep into the disgusting and scarred white flesh.
Only fifteen minutes later after the deed struck terror in her eyes.
Wrapping tissue and tape around every single wound, she proceeds to again lay down her head.
Her light turns off and her eyes shut tight, blankets draped around her pale, stained skin.
Her day is finally over at roughly ten o'clock p.m., only to repeat once more again.
Every single day, she forms her body to her brain, sixteen hours of the same old painful thing.
She conditioned to her life, bringing darkness to the light, she longing for the thrill of the fall.
Everybody knows almost everything she is, but they just can't fit the face with the pain.
Nobody knows that what they know is correct, and that tomorrow she'll hopefully be dead.
