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It doesn't seem,

Like she's the one,

Who constantly,

Looks for the knife.

It doesn't seem,

Like she's the one,

Who cries alone,

At night.

It doesn't seem,

Like she's the one,

Who would be the one,

To give up on her life.

It doesn't seem,

Like she's the one,

Who wouldn't see,

Her next daylight.

Her life seemed so perfect,

Her beauty so known,

Her love for people,

Her kindess towards all,

Would lead to her gone.

It doesn't seem,

Like she'd be the first,

To give up on herself,

When she gave up on no one before.

She stuck through the hard times,

Danced through the good,

Even so accepted,

She felt so alone.

Arms covered with cuts,

Her cat was to blame,

Not the knife,

Or the razor blade.

Feeling so down,

Nothing to do,

But sit and cut,

To let it all bleed through.

She felt so alone,

But so many loved,

She didn't realize the measure,

Of love for her.

So of course it never dawned,

On her friends to check,

If she was okay,

Never dawned on them at all.

She never seemed like the type to go,

So swiftly she did,

People heartbroken,

She never realized how much.

She thought she could be replaced,

But much many better,

But not many were better,

It never dawned on her,

That she was loved.