if only you knew
the pain she was going through;
mind infected with the lull of illusive voices,
scars stowed beneath layers of loose clothing,
organs heaving to support a system caked white with chalk
then perhaps you’d know
that beneath this nonchalant, stolid facade
hides a scared girl unaccustomed
to death.
death:
is what she’ll be if
no one is going to save her.
but no one can save her,
because no one knows.
no one cares.
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