She's the girl with the swollen eyes, slit wrist, messy hair, and messier mind. 

Her thoughts unravel at night and stay still by day.

She’s not the girl I saw two years ago, 

She was so happy and full of life, nothing or anyone could bring her down.

She’s now dull and stoic, her life has been going downhill.  

She just stares blankly as she watches her life crash right before her own eyes like a collision of stars 

This girl didn't think that someone would go so far to destroy her family, that some people were going to talk without knowing what shes going trough, that she is always going to be peoples second choice and she’ll always be put to the side. 

And Goddamn, now shes thinking, “If I cut a little deeper, the pain will go away”

But the thing about pain is that it never goes away, it wants to be felt. 

It needs to be felt.

So she builds up walls so she won’t hurt anyone that gets too close to her.

She believes she’s like fire, it’s fine to admire from afar but if you get to close you’ll burn.

She’ll explode like a grenade that’ll shatter you into pieces,

She’ll demolish you like how people destroyed her inside and out.

And the most sickening thing about this girl is that she’s staring at me through the mirror of an empty bathroom with blood running down her wrist, her mascara smudged, and an impassive expression on her face, asking “What kind of monster have I become?”