Sorrow-darkened eyes stare back at you,
ringed by thick dark makeup,
an attempt to hide the pain and suffering.
Underneath all of it,
shadows show lack of sleep.
Long, stringy blond hair covers one side of her face,
down which tears have left black streaks.
Your eyes meet hers for a split second,
and she looks away,
her gaze dropping to her inner forearms.
You glance down to see long, red gashes,
some more recent than others,
some already faded to white scars,
indicating a long relationship with this behavior.

Unseen under her black sweatshirt,
her ribs are easily visible,
bones showing too much to be healthy.
She cares for no one,
no one cares for her.
Easily forgotten,
shes always alone.
Shes dead to the world,
so follow everyone else,
and just look away.