She sat.
A complete mess.
Smudged eyeliner.
Against her glazed eyes.
Hair a mass of tats.
She’s not emo.
She doesn’t care.
She sometimes laughs,
Giggles.
Ok.
There’s that black hoodie she wears.
But the plastic tiara and tutu aren’t emo so there….
You laugh.
You smile.
Yet you can’t seem to see.
There’s more to this girl.
Than it seems….
The more you call “emo”,
As she walks down the street.
The more she cries.
Hating what she sees.
She wants to change.
But doesn’t think she can.
So one day.
She constructs a plan.
She dies her hair blonde.
Just tries to blend in.
Doesn’t listen to her music.
She smiles, she doesn’t listen to that din!
As she walks down the halls.
A emo no more.
She smiles her perfect smile.
Her make up transforming her.
Yet she still feels like she could die.
She goes home.
Even more broken than before.
She opens a draw.
And takes out a knife.
She smiles as she draws.
The crimson tears.
You don’t understand.
That this girl that you see.
This girl is more emo.
Than she can ever be.
So imagine the terror.
The pain.
The guilt.
Of her friend as she opened the door.
Read this poem.
Read that she couldn’t take it no more.
And as she looked down.
At the crimson floor.
To see the broken body.
Of a girl.
That exists no more.
Dark Fairy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/emo-girl/
