They cut themselves in a bitter battle
Starve themselves. Ravages of a hidden war.
I know girls like you.
No words spoken reveal the mire they’re in
Just small patches of torn out hair
Just the pink tracks of scratched skin
I’ve met those girls who fight demons
And must feel their way out of tormenting darkness
The ones screaming to drown out voices
That break the fragile self in pieces.
I’m glad for those girls that are still fighting
I’m glad for the ones who didn’t give in
‘Cos the more of us exposing the battle
The more there are left to fight and to win.
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