Broken Tale of a Girl

She acts happy, and excited.

Nobody knows that inside she is dying.

She puts on a happy face

To make everybody think she’s in her place.

 

The tears at night fall from her eyes,

But what they don’t know she wants to die.

She hopes one day someone asks her what’s wrong,

But nobody seems to get along.

 

Everybody thinks she’s always happy.

Nobody understands why she’s so sassy.

She uses sass to hide her fear.

When someone comes and says, “Let me hear.”

 

She hides away in a darkened place,

Nobody has seen her real face.

She walks around with a smile,

Hoping it will be real after awhile.

 

She is crying for help, but no one hears her,

Maybe the world would be better without her.

She grabs the bottle from the stand,

It’s time for her to leave this land.

 

She opens the bottle and pours them out.

The little pills, she counts out.

One, two, three, four,

Maybe she could take a few more?

 

Five, six, seven, eight,

Why is she trying to hesitate?

She decided that she wanted this,

But now that’s it’s here she wonders who she’ll miss.

 

She brings her hand up to her face,

And get’s ready to leave this place.

She hears her mother calling her name,

Her face reddens with shame.

 

Her mother calls her name,

She can’t leave this room the same.

She closes the door and locks it tight,

Telling herself she’ll be alright.

 

Tears start streaming from her eyes,

She is really going to die.

She walks the hallways quiet, and shy.

The critical stares make her cry.

 

She thinks of all the people who wronged her,

All the scars that are upon her.

She remembers each of them by name,

And starts saying this is her last day.

 

She says a poem that makes her cry,

But it’s the only way she can say goodbye.

She knows goodbyes are hard to bear,

But she can’t stop her life isn’t going anywhere.

 

She walks to the door and makes sure it’s locked,

She looks under the cupboard for her father’s gun.

She grabs the gun and raises it up, and says she’s done.

 

She hears her mother’s constant calling,

And her hand, it starts falling.

She looks at the gun, then the pills,

Both of them destined to kill.

 

The gun is too loud, it will give her away

The pills are quiet, she’ll float away.

The ropes are there, but she’s too scared.

She grabs the pills and she’s prepared.

 

She told her mom she was taking a shower,

But she never intended to, she had the power.

Her mother left her alone, she said “Oh alright…”

Little did she know that was her daughter’s last night.

 

She took the pills and swallowed them down,

She sat down and started to frown.

The pills weren’t working as fast as she needed.

She grabbed her razor, and started bleeding.

 

She was going to die by whatever means.

She looked at her arms and traced over the scars.

They were her prison, her prison bars.

She was stuck in her head, but things got fuzzy…

 

When she woke up she was in a gown.

Her mother had broken the door down.

After awhile of hearing the shower.

Her mother got worried since it had been a few hours.

 

Her mother was crying,

Her father was yelling.

She was confused, was she dying?

When her mother came over to see her daughter.

She had tears in her eyes and hugged her tighter.

 

She asked why the pills didn’t work,

Her mother said they were vitamins.

She looked confused and it suddenly hit her,

The pills she took belonged to her.

 

She cried with her mother,

She cried with her father,

She cried with her best friends, mothers and fathers.

 

Her best friend came up and looked in her eyes,

“Why didn’t you tell me? You almost died.”

That was the point she was trying to make.

“Did anybody know my smile was fake?”

 

That was the tale of how she died,

Her mother came up after five.

She was dead upon the floor,

Pills in her stomach, blood on the door.

 

The gun she was going to use,

Was on the floor next to her shoes.

It was loaded and locked, but she couldn’t do it.

She wanted a peaceful way to go through it.

 

In the end it all was too much,

She took her life and other’s such.

She wanted help because she was hurting,

But no one ever asked how she was doing.

 

The people who made her cut her arms,

Will pretend to be hurt, maybe even harmed.

They will cry and ask why,

But they won’t know why.

She wanted to die.


 

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