My Poems: Butterflies Mean Recovery

Story of a Girl

I want to tell you a story,

And I want you to listen well,

'Cos I want you to get the facts right,

When it's your own story to tell.

This is about a girl,

Who was told she could rule the world,

But she fell down when it mattered most,

And now her heart is burned.

Once upon a time, she was happy,

She had friends who praised and loved,

But they pushed her away on one horrible day,

'Cos it was she who lost their trust.

I suppose I should tell you that this girl,

Isn't an innocent as she sounds,

She did some bad things too,

But it's her mistakes she discounts.

Her friends weren't that good either,

They pushed her into depression,

The girl had no-one to help her up,

And cutting became an obsession.

Now that some friends have run away,

And she's only left with a few,

She can't work out who's real and who's fake,

And she doesn't know what to do.

Each recovery is harder than the last,

She forces herself not to cut too deep,

And she only dreams of the day when,

She can fall into eternal sleep.

She is way past breaking point now,

And she's sorry she can't help her friends,

But she supposes they'll be sorry too,

When her own damn life ends.

The girl wants everyone to know,

That when she hangs herself on a tree,

She's very sorry for all the pain she's called,

And I want you to know, that girl is me. 

A/N: Just some depressing poetry to get in the mood for school tomorrow.