Does anyone really see me
the person who I am
the girl who cries alone at night
Knife cuts on her wrist.
do people care to know me
or wonder the pain I'm in.
I know I try to hide it
with walls, dark clothes, and distance.
But when I write my poetry
Darkness flows from within.
nothing I do is ever
good enough for me
I can't make myself happy
So I sit and cry pathetically.
Does anybody really
want to delve deep into my soul and see
the inner thoughts that haunt me
Or the secrets hidden for no one to see.
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