There she sits, no one sees her, They hear her murmur but do not care. No one sees how she bleeds and cries, Her soul battered and bare. And she knows she has not just cried, She has torn her own flesh and ripped out her hair. But still they walk past; they do not see her, No, they just do not care. She always takes it out on herself, Her arms and legs now coated in scars. And no one has noticed this lost lonely girl With soul battered and bare. Again and again she picks up the blade Again and again No one knows why. She doesn’t know that what she is doing is wrong She can’t see through her tearful eyes. Her thoughts concealed inside her head No-one knows the sound of her voice Her best friend is the blood she pours each day Battered and bare not by her own choice.