Or are they?
Smile, talk, pretend to care for awhile.
Give up, cut, let them call me
ugly, useless, slut.
Let them bury me.
Pretend to be merry, that's me... right?
I won't fight. They don't listen-
I don't glisten like before, they dull my shine with the shadows of  harsh mouths.
I just don't care no more.
Using sharp words to crack me open.
It agonizes me to the core.
But they won't see the other side.

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Words can hurt.
How many times do we hear that? Why do we still have problems?
Just a gentle reminder.
Think before you blurt.
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Poem details:
"The other side": The "invisible" side, on the back of the skin.
"cut" Cut yourself. Also on the back of the skin.
"Let them bury me" Pretty much let them bring you down until you kill yourself.
"harsh mouths" Hurtful words coming from harsh mouths.
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I also drew this one- but I made the drawing first, so some details are left out, and I didn't feel like drawing in the details I made on the skin.
I shaded it, but the shading on the face and body is really hard to see.

GIMLI4EVER MADE A AWESOME FANART FOR THIS SKNI! =DDDD

Ya it looks 100x better then mine... xD


Skin details:
Odd shape at the shoulder blades: Broken heart
The lines all over the back: cracks
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This doesn't have anything to do with me, I'm not depressed or anything, I'm fine.
But I felt like making a skin like this, its wrong to pretend these problems do not exist.