They must be happy,
Their wrists are clean.
They must be nice,
I've never seen them be mean.
But assumptions are made,
The truth is a blur.
They're not depressed,
Just look over at her.
They're pointing at me,
But what they don't see,
Is under all my clothing,
Is a girl that wasn't ever me.
YOU ARE READING
Words With No Limit
PoetryJust some of my thoughts. Some poems I've written myself. And some I've gotten from other things. Read on(: Thanks and love you guys!
