Eschewed from the world.
A pain carefully hidden
behind an external facade.
The world was oblivious to
her reality, blind to her pain.
Like a lunatic, she roamed the
streets with her face lowered
to the ground.
Isolated; she barely said a word.
She was slowly fading away.
No one bothered to see her pain.
No one cared to find out what
was going on.
No one wanted to listen.
Everyone was too busy dealing
with something to see the evidence
printed on her skin.
Effects of self hate punctuating cruel
deeds shown on her scarred arms.
“She’s just another woman dealing with
Something. She’ll get over it”, they said.
Her hopes for happiness crumbled and
pain felt like a curse.
Living life on the edge. Craving love,
understanding and acceptance which
never came. She was tired of life.
A victim of emotional and physical abuse.
Crying every night, constantly fighting inner
battles and dealing with muffled screams
in the dark and whispers amidst angry
conversations in her head.
Negative thoughts devoured her composure
and prompted suicidal thoughts.
Time stretched to eternity as painful
realities veered in and she stuffed herself
with what killed her.
Feeling woozy from the pills, her irises
swirled and she fell to the ground.
A life lived in turmoil!
The world wept at her demise.
No one understood her reasons for suicide.
Unanswered questions to her plight sending
shock waves to all those who knew her.
An untold story signaling pain and regret.
A description of her life as clear as crystal
was painted on her face but the world
couldn’t see beneath her smile and perfectly