There is a ̶̵g̵̶̶̵i̵̶̶̵r̵̶̶̵l̵ [boy],
In the front of my class,
Who I swear I've never seen,
Do anything but laugh.
S̵̶̶̵h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵'̵̶̶̵s̵ [He's] tall and s̵̶̶̵h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵'̵̶s [he's] smart,
Beautiful and strong.
And when someone's down,
S̵̶̶̵h̵̶̶̵e̵ [He] tries to fix what it wrong.
How does someone so perfect,
Feel so insecure,
As to scar h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] skin with cuts and burns,
And still want to hurt more?
How does someone so loving,
Learn to hate h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] own guts?
Drawing a picture on h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] arm with a blade,
As if h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] mind isn't dark enough.
There is a ̶̵g̵̶̶̵i̵̶̶̵r̵̶̶̵l [boy],
In the front of my class,
Who's eyes are glazed over,
Like newly cut glass.
The ghost of a smile,
Hints at h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] face.
As s̵̶̶̵h̵̶̶̵e̵ [he] laughs when they tell h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [him],
Who's on 'first base'.
How does someone so perfect,
Feel so insecure,
As to scar h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] skin with cuts and burns,
And still want to hurt more?
How does someone so loving,
Learn to hate h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] own guts?
Drawing a picture on h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] arm with a blade,
As if h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] mind isn't dark enough.
There is a ̶̶̵g̵̶̶̵i̵̶̶̵r̵̶̶̵l̵ [boy],
In the front of my class,
Who's so sad that you find it rare,
To see h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [him] smile or laugh.
Her friends tell h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [him] jokes,
Like that one with the guy;
But all s̵̶̶̵h̵̶̶̵e̵ [he] does is close h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] eyes,
And enter her [his] mind.
How does someone so perfect,
Feel so insecure,
As to scar h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] skin with cuts and burns,
And still want to hurt more?
How does someone so loving,
Learn to hate h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] own guts?
Drawing a picture on h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] arm with a blade,
As if h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] mind isn't dark enough,
For h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] imperfections.
There was a ̶̵g̵̶̶̵i̵̶̶̵r̵̶̶̵l̵ [boy],
In the front of my class,
Who yesterday took,
The breath that was h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] last.
S̵̶̶̵h̵̶̶̵e̵ [He] wrote a few notes.
'I'm sorry I didn't say,
But my mind was messed up.
You couldn't save me anyway.'
And to the ̶g̵̶̶̵i̵̶̶̵r̵̶̶̵l̵ [boy] in the back of the class,
Who feels the way I did..
How does someone so perfect,
Feel so insecure,
As to scar h̵̶̶̵e̵̶̶̵r̵ [his] skin with cuts and burns,
And still want to hurt more?..
