In the mirror, I have seen,
A tired person, not serene.
She wishes;she longs-
She can't see whats wrong.

She can't do anything.
She's tired and hurt and weary,
She's crying and confused, and dreary.
She's sobbing.

Her heart, throbs, throbs, throbs,
And nothing changes.
Her feelings echo, rebounding a soft recording.
"It hurts."

So what does she do?
What do I do?

I wish I could run.

Run away from everything.

But running is A LIE.
Running solves nothing.
It kills your conscience and kills your mind.

Please leave me alone.