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I don't have perfect skin
I may have perfect eyes,
but even that waterproof eyeliner,
cannot hide my cries.



The jet black color
I've grown to know so well,
is washed off quickly,
as my eyes begin to swell.



And my irises turn blue,
and I begin to sob.
The pain in my throat
turns into a throb.



I bite the black off my nails,
them beginning to bleed,
and I begin to bawl,
hating what I've seen.



The knife can't help,
It'd be going too far.
But I'm scared of my future,
cause this is only the start.