She.

She sits and waits, with ivory skin, jet black hair and pupils like the prick of a pin.

She likes to be invisible, the room corners are inviting, she doesn't speak to anyone, she thinks they find her frightening.

She likes the darkness, it means she cant be seen, she doesn't like smiling, she hates being a teen.

She draws the curtains early and retires to her room, she strips from her skin tight jeans then fades into the gloom.

She lines her eyes in black, she gets pushed in the hall way, she doesn't have any friends, because she doesn't know what to say.

She listens to this music, it helps ease the pain, when shes crying her self to sleep or getting left out in the rain.

Her parents do not notice, and maybe do not care, she doesn't moan about it although the feeling isn't rare.

She hurts her self so no one else can , she thinks its the way out,
she is certainly depressed, and doesn't know what happiness is about.

but then one day, shes noticed, one very special day, when the hearts were broken, in the middle of may.

no one really knew her, but laid a rose in the dirt, for the girl who was never noticed until now that she was hurt.