A feeling of melancholy corrupted her. No longer wanting to do it anymore, she still pushes through.
The cuts on her wrist are no joke or mockery of people she has seen do so, yet everyone seems to think so. She thinks herself to death, creates more misery and sorrow.
She just wants the happy little girl she once was back, but she doubts that she will ever come back.
The thing is, she's not the one to blame for her melancholy feelings, though she tells herself that she is, it's false.
She doesn't understand why she feels the need to harm herself for what others have done to her,
she doesn't know why she needs to wear a hoodie over her body to hide the embarrassment everytime she goes into public.
Her anxiety is slowly taking her down with it, and she doesn't have room to breathe when she's drowning in a never ending ocean of shame.
She's been hurting for a while now, and everyone's JUST starting to notice. She tells them she's fine,
but she's really dying inside.