Tears streak down her face like the rain pelting the window, but at least the rain has a pretty sound for all I hear right now are the cries of her distress as she whispers, I’m fine

Yet another prayer goes unanswered and by the time you finish reading this another 3 persons will have taken the lives that were so graciously gifted to them

He is in a prison with no escape; the walls he had built to protect himself now leave him feeling trapped, and he is left all alone to fight the demons that ravage his mind, plastered with a measly I’m fine

It is a silent battle, one graced with violence and pain, yet it goes unnoticed, covered up with smiles and laughter that barely mask the tears that threaten to escape

The scars on his wrist paint a portrait of pain, but no one seems to notice, no, they refuse to look any further than the picture of perfection that he has become, choosing to listen to his broken I’m fine

The voices in her head have become her only friends, so she forgoes her medication and cancels her appointments and finds peace in the mind others try and control, for she knows she is fine

And her, she forces food down her throat only to throw it back up once more; it’s the same repetition every day: she’ll binge, purge, and then brush her teeth, walking out, smiling, telling everyone she’s fine

Almost four thousand kids my age attempted to set themselves free today in America alone and even worse, 80% of them gave off clear signs or told somebody of their plan

When he wakes up, he wishes he were back asleep, for when he is asleep, he doesn’t have to worry about his parents fighting or his dad finding him, so he puts on a band aid, crying, as he says he is fine

She gets up three hours before eight, smearing product after product onto the face she hates so much. But it’s worth it when she gets all those likes on Instagram, for then she can truly say she is fine

Kids aged ten to twenty-four have to live in constant fear of their own mind, for suicide is the second leading cause of death, even more so than cancer

He’s at school wishing he was back home or better yet a grave, for there is no change in the relentless abuse from his peers that the teachers choose to ignore, his parents only listening to his words of I’m fine

And she dresses in baggy clothes, hoping that the thin fabric will hide her form so that the boys can control their actions and the same thing that plagues her mind does not happen again, but when people ask, she says she’s fine

I want to see a change, for things like this happen daily. We are in a modern dystopia that we do not care to combat because as long as it doesn’t affect us, we’re fine