Teenage Rebel

Scars on her wrists

Vodka on her hands

Smile on her lips

It makes no sense

Deep talks

Light sleep

She loves walking

While drunk, when can't she think

She loves sex

But then she dies

'Cause after that

She feels a lie

About her past

That's why she cries

Still,

She turns them on

Leads them on

Then she says "no"

Thinks "where did I go?"

She drinks her alcohol

Smokes some cigarettes

With no regrets

Of recent past

That didn't last

More than a night

Hope that's alright

She's a teenage rebel

With scars on her wrists

Her mind's a twist

She's lot of trouble