Notice me

If youth is so precious

Why does it go away?

Why is it

When you hit that certain age

You don’t get that comforting smile

When you get hurt

You get shunned or yelled at

Because you didn’t tell them you had a knife

You hid your scars

And they didn’t like that

They didn’t like that they couldn’t protect you

But you can’t protect your child from things

That you caused

They’ll kill themselves to see if you cared

If you cared that they died

If you cared that their body was lying on the bathroom floor

Covered in blood

Only to get that same sting

They’ll cover themselves in scars

To show you how much you hurt them

Only to get backs turned

Why are parents so blind to see

That their kids are hurting

But only to say were overreacting

Cause their scared of what the public will say

When their kids arm as become their slaves

Telling it to make them feel better

Because parents care more about their reputation

Then to realize their kids are bleeding and hurting all day

All the cuts being written and revised

Sliced and bled

Your parents give you that disappointing look when they see the dry blood

But we can’t change that

So why don’t they?