transparent teardrops on the 800 thread-count sheets

(don't stain the pretty color)

carnation milk is for babies

but with her crimson cheeks

and blotchy skin

she deserves so much more than she gets.

i still see her face

and her hollowed eyes

and the way she held out her arms

and examined herself

and said

"look at this- i'm so ugly"

but there is still that thought

inside your head

she wouldn't really do anything

to harm herself

would she

she's so pretty as she is

but in the safety of her room

she did what she said she never do

and before anyone realized

it was too late to save her-

from herself

and (as always)

when no one expected it

she had killed herself

but life goes on

right?

and it was almost as if she was never there.

but not for that one person

who listened to her

and knew her

and loved her

"as a friend"

deep inside

we can hurt so much

but no one really knows

it's life, kid

get used to it

but life isn't "just life"

when it comes to other things

like suicide

of the person you told

that it was

"just life"

i still see his face

and his milky pale skin

the way his sleepless nights

began to take their toll

and how he eyed the sleeping pills

and shook them

"i need one of these- please"

and one turns to two

and two turns to three

and pretty soon

the bottle is nearly empty

but there is still that thought

inside your head

he wouldn't really do anything

to harm himself

would he

and no one notices

cuz he only needed one

and one couldn't hurt a boy

could it?