October 13, 2011

October 16, 2011
Living the past she felt captive inside a prison cell.
Three years of negativity, self-worthlessness, and uncertainty of breathing.
Her hands reach towards the cold door knob.
As she shut the door she heard riot in her parent’s room.
She locked herself inside the bathroom once again.
Her back is against the door.
A thick strip of metal piercing through her forearm
The irises move back and forth filled with anxiety.
Her heart races as if she ran a marathon.
Deep cuts from the razorblade are hidden from the cloth of a designer.
She is silent.
People only knew her name.
They didn’t know what she was going through.

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