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Wrist-Scarred Angel
I see an angel up in heaven.
There's something strange about her.
Seeing there are scars on her once pure wrists.
Bruises on her back and the impression of a slipknot on her slender neck.
This is her tale.
Once in the earthly realm she was a child born to a family of one.
Just a mother. No father figure.
She didn't grow up in the projects or slums of the city.
Fair conditions in a safe haven.
A decent income for the matriarch of this girl's life.
The source of her torments and immortal scars however, come from her school surroundings.
An outcast in this environment she never knows friendship or trust.
Harried by other teens.
Harassed, gibed at, insulted, even beaten.
She finds that her only answer is suicide.
Not wanting to hurt her beloved mother- she lives on.
Several years of constant bullying.
Only being able to just take it.
She tries to ignore it all.
Finding her way to find true peace.
The blade flirted and lured her to it's ecstasy of relief through more pain.
The next day she hides her affair with long sleeves and bracelets.
Transformed into another person.
Dressed in charcoal shades.
Lipstick smeared, mascara trickling down her cheeks, hair dyed in a pallet of loving colors.
Isolated through heavy drumbeats that transmit to her eardrums from twenty dollar earphones.
Still tortured by her peers.
Her soul finally breaks.
Alone at home.
The rope seduces her to make a noose.
Elevated on a chair wrapping the flirting rope around her neck.
A final kiss for her suicide note that'll be found by no one since mother has died in a car crash.
Leaps to her death.
A short leap.
Her eyes glared into the empty spaces of her portrait of life.
A beautiful angel.
A past she tries to forget as she lives a new one.

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