To that girl that secretly hides the pain you cause her.
She loves you dearly but is a psycho at mind.
Every night after a long dreadful day at school she comes home and draws a picture.
The brush is the blade, the skin is the paper.
She hates what she does, day after day she tries to stop but let’s herself down.
Slowly killing herself inside and out.
She sees no help, no joy just the loneliness you leave her.
Queen Clarisse of Genovia, the coolest grandma ever.
(Source: lejazzhot, via elisechaky)
Can I call you? I miss the sound of your voice.