It's been two weeks and three days since anybody asked me if I was okay, It's been six months and one week since my happy feelings were out of reach, I'm just a girl, I'm not asking for any sympathy, I am a curse, I'm like a broken teenager symphony.
I last recognised my smiling face when a loving home was my happy place, Now a shadow behind my own reflection, Now a ghost telling my own confession,
A father, a cheater! A mother, a drinker! A sister, a user! Me... Just a loser.
I don't heal, I just hurt, Hurt for something, Scared to talk, Dare to be heard? I feel everything,
When I scratch my skin, I just want to forget the sadness, When I see the running blood, I start to become a little breathless, Drip... Drip...
I'm crying, I'm crying out!
I need holding, Need consoling,
Sitting alone, terrified! of what I might do next, I just can't talk!
I don't want them thinking I'm a pest, Maybe if I talk and open up I won't think of my last breath, I'm on the bathroom floor, red-stained clothes getting wet.
Let it go, It controls me, Let it go, It consumes me,
Still, I'm just a little girl, To become someone's world, I need to live and learn, To be brave, not masquerade.
So, please... Look my way, Ask if I'm okay, You never know, This might be my last day...