Seventeen

I’m seventeen and falling.
My skin is fading.
My eyes are dark.
Though about dying too many times.
And I would have done it already,
but I’m afraid of not knowing.
What happens when you’re gone?
What happens when you die?
I look in the mirror,
and hate what I see.
Look deep in your heart,
past the hatred for me.
Those fuckers at school
were all too perfect for me.
No, I’m the outsider,
but still never free.
And I have given up one too many times,
but I’m still here.
No on picks me up,
but still I stay.
And I have no reasons why.

Your letting me fade,
because you can’t see what’s wrong.
Not that I’d ever tell you.
Do I even know myself?
Try to understand why I cry like I do.
Why I pretend to be happy.
I’ll lie.
Just like you.
And I have hurt myself too many times.
I’m sick of senseless bleeding.
Hurt myself on the outside.
To kill whatever’s inside.

You’ll never know,
how much I cry.

I’ll never know,
how much you try.