There is a girl...

There is a girl in front of my class, who I swear I've never seen do anything but laugh

She's tall and she's smart, beautiful and strong, and when someone's down she tries to fix what's wrong

How does someone so perfect, feel so insecure as to scar their skin with cuts and burns, and still want to hurt more

How does someone so loving, learn to hate their own guts, drawing a picture on their arms with a blade as if their mind isn't dark enough

There is a girl in front of my class, who eyes are glazed over like newly cut glass

The ghost of a smile hints on their face, and she laughs as they tell her 'who's on first base'

How does someone so perfect feel so insecure as to scar their skin with cuts and burns and still want to hurt more

How does someone so loving, learn to hate their own guts, drawing a picture on their arms with a blade as if their mind isn't dark enough

There is a girl in front of my class who so sad you find it rare to see them smile or laugh

Her friends tell them jokes like that one with that guy but all she does is close her eyes and enter her mind

How does someone so perfect, feel so insecure as to scar their skin with cuts and burns, and still want to hurt more

How does someone so loving, learn to hate their own guts, drawing a picture on their arms with a blade as if their mind isn't dark enough

For her imperfections...

There was a girl in front of my class who yesterday took the breath that was her last

She wrote a few notes " I'm sorry I didn't say, but my mind was messed up, you couldn't save me anyways...

And to the girl in the back of the class, who feels the way I did

'How does someone so perfect feel so insecure as to scar their skin with cuts and burns and still want to hurt more'"