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Description
I'll be begging for the rest of my life.
       She clutches the sink. It's ugly, the coloring looks like mold.
Her eyes are rimmed red. Life does that.
Everyone says their eyes change color when they cry,
but the color is only brought out more by the scarlet veins. It seems like they scream to get out a lot now.
Anyone with sense should have known that. But nobody knows.
Around her eyes there are red splotches, too.
Those are from the blood, the embarrassment. I don't think anyone else saw this coming.
Her hands are shaking.  This doesn't hurt, not yet. It will.
She can feel the tears on her clothes. They fell down her chin and now they're staining fabric.
It's a good thing tears aren't ink. Everyone would see every painful memory and hate themselves.
It's too late, she already does.
She covers her mouth with the pants she just took off. If anyone hears her, she will be deemed weak.
They drilled that into her head a long time ago.
And my tears are useless now.
        Even if the sun comes out tomorrow, she doesn't want to see it.
I don't even want to be alive.
Nobody is where they plan to be, not like this.
She's alone, not the way she wanted to be. She's given up all her breath.
No, they took it from me.
She can't feel the cuts anymore, none of the burns, no lacerations can hurt her anymore.
But the scars still burn.
She can cover every little one of them, excuse them, blame someone else.
Just like they've been blaming me.
They told her she was a bad person, someone selfish and daunting- A tease, a bitch, a royal black sheep.
They're blue, they're blue, they're blue. I'm a good person. I have to be.
Boys and girls only give you so many tears to cry, they can only do so much.
They're blue. Blue is the color of good.
But a family can tear down everything in breath, a heartbeat.
Whatever you choose, they can ruin you.
No, they're green.
                                        And sometimes they do.
I can't defend an entire city by myself. I'm not an army, and I never have been.

Description
I'll be begging for the rest of my life.
       She clutches the sink. It's ugly, the coloring looks like mold.
Her eyes are rimmed red. Life does that.
Everyone says their eyes change color when they cry,
but the color is only brought out more by the scarlet veins. It seems like they scream to get out a lot now.
Anyone with sense should have known that. But nobody knows.
Around her eyes there are red splotches, too.
Those are from the blood, the embarrassment. I don't think anyone else saw this coming.
Her hands are shaking.  This doesn't hurt, not yet. It will.
She can feel the tears on her clothes. They fell down her chin and now they're staining fabric.
It's a good thing tears aren't ink. Everyone would see every painful memory and hate themselves.
It's too late, she already does.
She covers her mouth with the pants she just took off. If anyone hears her, she will be deemed weak.
They drilled that into her head a long time ago.
And my tears are useless now.
        Even if the sun comes out tomorrow, she doesn't want to see it.
I don't even want to be alive.
Nobody is where they plan to be, not like this.
She's alone, not the way she wanted to be. She's given up all her breath.
No, they took it from me.
She can't feel the cuts anymore, none of the burns, no lacerations can hurt her anymore.
But the scars still burn.
She can cover every little one of them, excuse them, blame someone else.
Just like they've been blaming me.
They told her she was a bad person, someone selfish and daunting- A tease, a bitch, a royal black sheep.
They're blue, they're blue, they're blue. I'm a good person. I have to be.
Boys and girls only give you so many tears to cry, they can only do so much.
They're blue. Blue is the color of good.
But a family can tear down everything in breath, a heartbeat.
Whatever you choose, they can ruin you.
No, they're green.
                                        And sometimes they do.
I can't defend an entire city by myself. I'm not an army, and I never have been.