This poem is about self harm, but contains no gory details as such.

Like an unwatered flower

Her face has begun to wilt

She forces a smile

To mask away the pain

Little white lies

Falling like snowflakes

Whispers on her pale lips 

To create sunshine above the rain

Tears stain her canvas

She uses blood like a paint

Carving red between the snowfall

To tell her story with a twist

She is a blooming flower

That only sees the beauty of the meadow

She continues to write her life out

Writes it on her wrist

The End

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