A sad sight on her wrist

She came to school the other day,
I could sense she was feeling blue,
I did not know what was going on,
Or what she was going through.

She told me that she was fine,
I knew that was a lie,
I could see this light in her eyes,
That told me she wanted to cry.

I really wanted to ask her,
what was going on,
But every time I asked,
she said nothing was wrong.

So I left her alone,
thinking she didn’t want to say,
But I found out eventually
at the end of the day.

I asked her what was wrong
And she decided to notify,
That she fought with her mum,
and then started to cry.

She said that was all,
But that I did not believe
But then my eye noticed
the way she was gripping her sleeve.

I wanted to look at it,
she would not let me see,
I knew what was going on,
and I felt great sympathy.

I fought with her for ages,
Struggling to see her wrist,
But she held her sleeve so tightly,
That redness covered her fist.

I had to see what was on there,
so I could help her stop,
And eventually she showed me,
The skin she chose to lop.

She showed me at least 50 cuts,
Upon her once clean skin,
She told me how much blood came out
when the glass went in.

I was terrified by what I’d seen,
She said she did it because she was stressed,
But now I wonder fearfully
If my friend is depressed.

I don’t know why I didn’t notice earlier,
Those cuts were hard to be missed,
But I wish I didn’t see it,
That sad sight on her wrist.