Coping .

She sat in a corner
And nobody cared.
They didn't understand
How much she was scared.

The brusies she sported
Were inside, not out,
But she didn't show it;
Not even a pout.

Every night in her room,
With her door locked tight ,
She would give up the mask;
She would lose the fight.

By her bloodsoaked pillow
Layed the razor blade.
She looked down at her wrist;
The pretty red shade.

She made one extra scar
Every night she cut,
And she kept on going;
It wasn't enough.

She kept trying to stop,
But she never could.
It was hard to break free;
It was leaves to her wood.

She still isn't able
To let go of this world,
But she's trying harder,
And making it work.