Alice
Long blonde hair that any girl would desire,
but her eyes show how broken she’s inside.
Always dressed in black, making sure her body
doesn’t show off.
Her face could’ve been used as a synonym for innocence.
She would naturally take your breath away with a glance from her.
Nevertheless, she was the example that beauty doesn’t mean happiness.
Sometimes your looks can take you far in life, but it’s not always the case.
Her doll face didn’t have anything with what was going on her inside.
She would wear long skirts, unlikely in this generation, where you want to show off your legs.
But she was hiding a dark secret on her body, too obscure to the average people.
Her body was a map, thick lines covering her ghostly skin,
the marks of a girl who used her body as a blank canvas,
where she would use a blade instead of a brush. Scarring every space.
Oh, Alice. Her parents were so scared of her, and so was the other way around.
So they locked her up, in a place they thought would be safer.
But her shelter was on her playlist, where she managed to escape from reality through a song.
It wouldn’t be a surprise to look at her with headphones on, she was trying to fade into the lyrics.
One evening her parents showed up with red roses for her daughter,
trying to make up for the psych ward they put her in.
She cried for hours until she asked her older friends “Does it get better?”
the future was scary for her, and so her relationship with her family.
But she didn’t get the right answer it was a “no, it doesn’t”
That was the last night Alice was alive.
Her friend has been so kind to her, so she left a rose on her pillow,
because she wasn’t brave enough to say goodbye.
That red rose as long as her phone was the only thing that proved she was real.
But in the end, she got tired and decided to take her life away.
And each time I look into the night sky, I like to picture her as a star.
Finally at peace.
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