There once was a girl
Who greeted school with open arms.
She was in first grade and had glasses and pigtails.
A book in her arms and a smile on her face,
She had friends all around her
There once was a girl
Who trashed the skirts for tight jeans that defined the skinniness of her legs.
She was in the seventh grade and let go of her pigtails and wore makeup.
A book in her arms and a smile on her face,
She had left all her friends behind
There once was a girl
Who wore whatever she could find and tried to hide the scars
She was in the eleventh grade and she wanted the world when it didn't want her.
A book in her arms and tears down her face,
She had only four people left to count on
There is a girl
Who wore her story on her skin
She was me and I wanted to find myself.
A book in my arms and a broken smile on my face,
I found the words to carry me through
YOU ARE READING
Could it be Worse?
PoetryTRIGGER WARNING!!!! References sadness, depression, self harm, suicide, etc. This is basically what goes on in my head.
