What do people see when they look at me?
The girl I use to be?
Who makes people laugh and smile
Who hides her tears inside so no one will have to hear her cry
Or do they see they monster inside of me?
One who enjoys pain
And always loes the game
One who cuts to live
And lives to cut
Do they know what they have done to me?
Destroyed ever happy part of me
Made me cry myself to sleep
Ripped me to pieces and made me fall
Wanting me to stand up and be tall
So they can abuse me again and again
What happens when the cut doesn't stop bleeding?
And I run out of blood
Would they cry?
Would they miss me at all?
I guess I'll find out soon
The last thing to do is.....