March 20, 2009
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She looks with tired eyes
Her eyes have seen years
They have seen things no one should see
They have cried meaningful and pointless tears
As she awakes, she opens her eyes
And prepares for another day of misery

She rubs her tired eyes and walks to her bureau
With wrinkled hands, she opens the drawer
These hands have felt the sting of tears
They have held a cold razor blade in them
They have felt the burn of a lit cigarette

She sighs at her hands and looks to her arms
These arms hold the pain she has inside
They have felt pain more than you could ever imagine
When she is sad, her arms are her outlet
The scars on her arms show that

She extends her arms and reaches into the drawer
She picks up a bottle and presses it to her lips
The warm alchohol seeps inside her mouth
This mouth has tasted pills
It has blown smoke from it
It has whispered words of sadness to itself
It has held the secrets of addiction
And has kissed many mouths
Including that of a bottle of whiskey

She puts on her clothes and walks outside
She puts on a fake smile and sits on the steps
A car pulls up and she hops in
Her friends are inside it, laughing
And she laughs with them as they pull away

Finally, they arrive at their destination:
She is only 15 years old.

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