The never ending cycle

She looks in the mirror, finding every little mistake.
“You’re fat, you’re hair is too short, you’re ugly” is all she hears.
Her thoughts…filling her head with horrible images, thoughts, and everything in between. “Was it all a lie?” she questions everyday. The scars burning into her flesh. Her skin crying out for liberation. She picks up the knife, the razor, the blade…or anything that is available to free herself from the voices that taunt. One slash, two slash, three…the blood pours onto the sink. Her tears falling down her cheeks, burning as they flow past old marks. She bites her lip as she hears knocks on the door. “Are you alright? What’s going on?” she hears. Trying to sound normal, she replies a quick “Just feeling a bit sick” “I will be  fine” “Nothing to worry about”…but we all know that she is not sick, and she wont be fine, and there is much to worry about. Cleaning up her blood soaked arms, she opens the door rushing to her room. She locks the door behind her falling to the ground. The pain becoming greater then the original problem itself.  Falling asleep right there, she dreams of her past. The past where things were simple…
But what is simple? What is happiness? Does it ever exist? Or are we just blind..
Waking up on the ground, she groans and looks at the reminder of last night. The reminder of how weak she really is. How easily her heart is broken. How simple it really is to break a girl into a million pieces and never put them back together.
The wound my heal, but the pain will last…
It never ends.