Nonpoetry I- It's Just a phase.

She can't sleep. But how could she?

The clock ticks, and ticks, and ticks. Loudly, it counts every second, every minute, every hour.

She hides in her room, locked herself from the struggle of reality and responsibilities.

Her mother shames her and her father blames her for every misleading event that happens.

This girl, she hurts. But no one sees. Her mother's to busy with working and her fathers always in the clouds.

She seeks help one day, from her mother.

She tells her how she feels, and what she sees and does.

But her mother said it was just a phase, that she's just a teenager and it will pass.

She feels alone now, more alone than she ever was. She stares at walls, those little voices in her head are the only thing she has.

She wants to be happy, but she cant find a way. She's tried drawing, sewing, reading and even poetry.

But nothing excites her, makes her smile. She always has a dead face, no matter how hard she pushes herself to be happy. She's never succeed.

What do you do, when your world is just blank. You feel like your living in slow motion

Days seem indistinguishable. You become more weak and weak as every day passes, every hour and minute passes

you don't want to live like this. And you know it isn't a phase.

You do, what's left to do. You end it all.

She took a rope, tied a noose. She didn't write a note

All she wishes, is that you'll notice.