Tears And Slices Poem by Arianne Owens

She tears and slices,
cuts and burns.
Know one hears her cry,
she wants to tell,
but she can't and it fails.
No one would understand,
no one would help.
Here, she's the only kind,
the only one in this painful bind.
She hides her emotions in a bottle,
hoping for a good tomorrow.
What if she did tell?
How many would damn her to Hell?
Which ones would give advice?
But could it even surfice,
could any understand less experienced first hand?
She wants a man,
one to hold her hand.
To wrap his arms around her, lean to her ear,
say 'I love you' in a whisper.
But these endings only happen in books,
and the thoughts disapear.
Will any hear her story, quiet her cries?
Or is she considered weak, and continued to be passed by?