My face. 

Carefully crafted, each detail put on so that it would create a beautiful human being. 

On the outside, my beautiful forehead with a sprinkle of freckles is shown. 

But it hides the stress bubbling up inside my mind.

It hides all of the worries 

The pain.

My sparkling blue eyes that you can get lost in 

The sea on a glorious summer day.

It hides the horrors it's seen. 

The stabbing, painful texts that it’s witnessed. 

My delicate, pale cheeks, where the soft brown freckles are scattered upon. 

They cover the tears that have flooded down them. 

They contribute to the gleaming smile that hides the pain 

Hides the awful stabs of words and emotion

Hides...everything. 

My smile. 

The pearly white teeth hide the times that they have been clenched. 

They hide the screams and the useless self-defenses that have left my mouth,

Never to return.

My tan skin hides the scratching that is caused by anger 

And the words-not my fingernails, that pierce the soft surface. 

Everything hidden. 

No one understands.

The words build-up, like a brick wall that can’t be knocked down 

Or a wave that you can’t swim through without being crashed down to the ground.

My stomach.

It hides the gut-wrenching feelings.

The pain and the anxiety that it experiences.

The emptiness, when I feel too terrible to eat.

I know you tried to help

But it's too late.

My face is now colorless and pale

My smile is no longer showing

My eyes are cold and lifeless

My cheeks are no longer supporting a shining smile

And my stomach no longer covers horrible feelings

In fact, it isn't covering anything

How could it cover the blood?

The flesh?

The wound?

It wasn’t the knife in my hand that killed me

Yes of course it delivered the death blow

But really

This wasn't suicide

This was murder

And you're the guilty one.