I want to paint my face and pretend that I am someone else.

One broken girl. One razor blade. One drop of blood yet to be shed.

Sometimes I get so fed up that I don't even want to look at myself.

One day. One week .One year. One lifetime of pain.

But people have problems that are worse than mine,

Too many goodbyes.

I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time.

Never being good enough. Always being left in the dark.

And I hate the way you look at me I have to say,

17 years of self-hatred. Her mirror scattered in pieces around her body.

I wish I could start over.

A bottle of pills, a bottle of wine. Nine lives and not enough time.

I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
You might think it's easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty.

A river a tears, a puddle of blood; voices calling, from above.

Sometimes I find myself shaking
In the middle of the night
And then it hits me and I can't
Even believe this is my life.

Beaten, broken, and betrayed; what else would happen if she stayed?

But people have problems that are worse than mine
I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time
And I wish that everyone would go and shut their mouths
I'm not strong enough to deal with it.

Violated, penetrated, bruised, and scarred; lying six feet under the stars.

I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
You might think it's easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty

Calling her up, to take her away; The darkness feeling so warm yet she was betrayed.

I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
You might think it's easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty.

Slow…So slow… She falls to the ground. A bloody knife clatters to the bathroom tile, an empty bottle of pills trailing slowly behind. They found her with her face to cold linoleum, a goodbye clutched in her hand.

It read:

I'm sorry for the path I have taken, but this masquerade has gone on for two days too late. I tried…I tried so hard, but the pain only increased with each passing day. I may be gone, but I'm not over. DETERMINATE!

-Stella.

R.I.P. Stella Yamada… She stood still and looked pretty for far too long.