She's pacing back and forth in her room but it's tiny. Staring at her once white carpet cluttered in clothes and jewlery. She watches her step to make sure she walks over anything pointy. Her breath is short and jaded, like a knife, not sharp enough to pierce anything. She's alone but she doesn't have to be. Downstairs, in her own house, there is a party. She can feel the base strike the walls and vibrate through her body. If only I wasn't alone, then I would be happy. But there's a party going on downstairs and no one cares that I'm missing. She stops walking and sits down on her bed near the nightstand because that's the only spot that's empty. She sits there, uncomfortably, not thinking anything because why would she? Around her room there are hidden treasures or so she hopes them to be. A bottle of pills in her dresser and razors scattered uncontrollably. Her arms scream, carving words into her body, trying to find love but she isn't treated equally. They use her because people say she's easy. So she believed them and carved a word I don't want to be repeating. Her heart started beating faster and faster she thinks her mind is a disaster, thinking too rapidly she makes a mistake, if only she had called me.
I've tried to help her but if she doesn't want to get rid of them then I can't stop her from what she wants to be. In pain, covered in scars, her skin, her body, I can't tell her what to do, I can't tell her who to be, she wants to be lonely. I saw the light fade from eyes, slowly. I noticed her head staring at the ground, disappointingly. I hate how she treats herself, like she's nothing. Starving for affection from everyone else and I'm just trying to show her life's worth living.She opened my eyes, i felt i could show her more than my disguise and helped me see reality. She won't open up to anyone because they all want something but I just want to know all your fantasies, how you think, how you act when you're alone or when you're really happy, satisfied, no worries.
I wasn't there at the party, I would have noticed the loss of her body. She starts crying because she knows she’s sorry. Everything in her room starts to get even more blurry until she realizes this isn't her life, this isn't her story. More pills and more drinks then blood drips down the sink and no notices the girl throwing the house party will be gone in a blink. All her memories and stories and thoughts and dreams will be gone, you'll be a dream. People will cry but they have never seen you. So before you sleep, have one last night, and let everyone get to know the real you.