Dressed in black chains,
Scars imprinted by the razorblade.
They sit together,
With their tear stained faces.
They talk of phoney pain.
Selfish self inflicted pain.
Dressed in white,
She sits alone and stares,
Thick cloth covering the bruises,
A smile suffocating her screaming cries.
They tell her she knows nothing of misery,
She's fortunate with a glamorous life.
They're nothing but tortured souls,
Cutting their flesh to ease their hurt.
Unaware she's laughing to forget hers.