I never wanna be a statistic.
I remember my mother once told me in a whisper that her best friend’s daughter was a cutter for attention,
Cuz that’s the only reason any pretty little girl would ever slide a knife under her skin.
It’s funny cuz I nodded while my hips were bleeding crimson tears,
Her deepest fears I hid so well; she’d never guess that I was broken too…
But I’ve never laced my arms with scarlet ribbons for the sake of someone else,
Or for attention -- I can barely look at all my scars myself!
So mother listen please I beg you to these words I’ll never speak
Just stop pretending I am perfect
I will never be like you
I’ll never end my life, not cuz I’m scared,
But cuz I don’t want people
Staring at my wrinkled skin when I’ve escaped from here.
I never want my name to blur
With all the other teenage girls
Who were so brave to meet their Deaths with open arms and broken hearts.
Death has never frightened me,
It’s others moving on and writing me away as just another suicide for someone’s research paper on depression in a college psych class
Don’t you dare erase my face and change my name to “far too many suicides this year.”