jeskavalentine

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Too tight shirts and slashed up jeans,
These are a few of her favorite things,
Dark purple hair and blackest of black lips,
And big silver chains wrapped all 'round her wrists.
You stare in horror at the scars that she bares,
I bet you wonder how they got there,
She hates her parents and she hates you,
There's nothing you can make her do.
But you'd never know from the way that she'd stare,
The pain that she feels and the tears never there,
She locks it all away up inside,
And hides behind the decieving pride.
Jeska Lee Valentine