There was a girl.
A sweet, simple girl who grew up with a middle class family.
But her life was not perfect, nor was it ever.
Death of some of her closest family members, bullies, a fist fight, betrayal.
That was her life.
There was a night-late, while everyone slept, she exposed her hip.
The blade slit long slices along each one.
She felt free.
Weightless.
Numb.
She put away the blade in her secret spot, and climbed onto her bed.
And she sobbed.
She thought that it had happened a long time ago.
Before she shut herself away in her room away from everyone.
Before she first used the blade.
But this
was the night that I broke.
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S H A T T E R E D
Poetryhere. Here will be a series of things Tragic Sad Whatever you call it Things Things I haven't shared Finally shared The things I've kept inside