You see the smile plastered on her lips, dripping a story with a twist. Lies escape with every phrase, across your ears. You believe it's the truth she's laid. She seems like the perfect student, perfect girl; every strand without a curl. But, when all speaks truth, she feels lower than you. On a land so deep and cold, rigid and black. Where light isn't reaching her eyes, and hope not her soul. She's hit rock bottom and isn't coming back. She's hit rock bottom, lying in her own familiar crack. Her hair covers her face, shielding her eyes, but you just see her pencil, scrawling lies. Blinking back tears, she's holding back cries. This is her too familiar vacation. In a location so dark and blue. But you see her smile bright and believe that her lungs are clear of fog. She keeps her head held high for you, teacher and her eyes left dry. For you, wise one, it's all an act, for with death she has made a pact. Her heart frowns all day, her lungs filled with dust. Her head hangs to her heaving chest. There's a knife you have plunged deep through her heart. She walks with it every day as you don't notice. Her pain. Her tears flood her room behind closed doors- her own personal escape. This is Rock Bottom. A place she doesn't have to be perfect for you.