Descending

And now, in the mirror I see the look on my face:
it's half disappointment and half disgrace.
"Don't worry about it. It takes awhile," is what they all tell me with the same false smile.

It's okay now that I'm descending.
I've got plenty of time to numb the pain with chemicals, ignore the reason for the rhyme.

It's hard on a girl who's alone in her head and it's hard on a friend. It's hard on the ones who love you and know you'd be better off dead.