Camouflage

Her wallpapered skin Blends into the wall She’s on top of the world But continues to fall She wishes they’d listen She’s hoping they’ll see That those cool poems she writes Are actually pleas Cries out for help That nobody hears While she sits, confused She thought it was clear The teardrops on her pillow, The cuts on her back She thought someone would see How she keeps wearing black But, no, they don’t see Or choose to ignore The fact that she’s just not Herself anymore