Broken, open, heartless and lonely,
She cries in her sleep.
She can’t help but to weep
As the words run though her mind,
None of which have ever been kind:
Fat, stupid, ugly, useless, worthless.
She has come to believe that she’s hopeless.
She has been called each one and started to believe,
And now they run through her mind with no reprieve.
She only finds solace in the blade of a knife.

With each word and each day,
She cuts her wrists and hopes to slay
The demons that lurk within her head,
Each one wishing her for dead.
As the drops of blood run down her arm,
She finally sees why others self-harm.
It turns emotional pain to physical,
And thus makes it manageable.
In spite of her new release,
She finds the monsters in her head still refuse to cease.
Time goes by and scars cover her skin,
But nothing can stop the monsters within.
Thought the sight of her own blood
Can temporarily stop the flood
Of words within her mind,
A permanent cure is all she hopes to find.

No one cares about her,
And no one sees her pain,
Even as her will to live begins to wane.
She would do anything to end her strife,
Even if it would end her life.
Then one day she cuts too deep,
And the blood flows as she begins to weep.

She weeps for all the years she lost,
She weeps for all the friends she wished she had,
She weeps for all the things she’ll never do,
And for all the things she never said.
As her blood runs out, she hopes people will see
How harmful simple words can be,
And hopes that others can avoid this same tragedy.