I know she's decaying in a shell ripped to shreds by her razor blade. But I'm too late. The winter coldness controls her heart and mind. Forcing her to do horrible things. Tears run down her cheeks at lunch sometimes, but I'm not allowed to ask why. Last week I saw a scar around her neck, deep and red. She saw me look, and her face turned red as she walked away. I wanted to run after her, but everyone was watching. My friends don't approve of her because of the rumors I started. No one finds her appealing due to the lies created by the ones who listened to me. It's my fault, but I'll never admit.
She hides behind her black clothing and long hair. Fuck, she doesn't even sing anymore. She sang so pure and unique, I wish she'd play her sad guitar again.
She doesn't write anymore, I wait everyday for an update of somesort.
She's slipping from me but I can't save her. It's not my responsibility, or is it? No, it never was. I was far too blind from the popularity I used to crave. I was drowned in friends and girls, while she drowned in tears.
She tried to scream but no one cared.
I didn't care.
What have I done?
