The vicious names bite her with venom.
I'm fine.
The mocking snickers dig deep in her skin.
I'm fine.
She forces herself to pay attention in class.
I'm fine.
The itch of healing cuts distracts her.
I'm fine.
She tries not to cry on the bus.
I'm fine.
She runs and runs and runs her way home, running from the day behind her.
I'm fine.
She slices away at her skin with cold metal blades.
I'm fine.
Her wrist lays in a pool of red, life slipping away.
I'm fine.
She lets out a quiet gasp, at peace at last.
I'm fine.
"Did she ever say she wasn't okay?" They ask.
No, she always said she was fine.
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