Hidden Tragedy

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Nobody sees her pain.

She is alone and ashamed.

So she tries to cut herself,

Out of the cage that is her body,

With a little pencil sharpener blade.

With every passing day,

More and more of her blood drains,

And more of who she is fades away.

With every slice, her soul dies.

Until she is only a shell,

And her body is cold.

Her blood surrounding her,

And her blade upon the ground,

Her lungs no longer breathe.

From her wrist, no pulse can be found.

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