the girl in the back row

Look at her
Her chilling icy stare
The way she has her hair
Look at her
Those cuts on her wrists
The scars on her soul
She sits with friends
But she is alone.
They are giggling and gossiping
She is quiet and thoughtful
I wonder what she’s seen
In her short life
Does she live in reality?
Or does she live with her pain?
Inside. Locked and caged?
Look at her
I wonder if she has a heart
Or if it’s been ripped out
And shattered into a million pieces?


I guess we’ll never know
She killed herself last night.