She was born into pain, a child of neglect.
She lived too many places to count, studied pain and trauma.
She worked at building a brick wall to shelter her heart.
She is always on guard, never fully trusting anyone.
She has been hurt so much she is use to it.
She loves only one but she knows her love goes unrequited.
She is painfully aware that she is just an option to him, the bottom of the barrel to him.
His power over her makes her weak, she'll love him even though he rips out her heart daily.
She wears black to mourn all she has lost.
She cries silent tears knowing that no one cares.
She screams into the night.
The scars upon her skin remind her of her pain, the scars upon her heart remind her of her love.
Her memories rip her apart, her hopes are deadly.
She gives and is used, she loves and is abused.
Her voice is lost to the world, it falls upon deaf ears, her cries for help unanswered.
She wishes that someday she will be his girl, knowing it will never be...He made that clear...He makes that clear.
He is more important to her than she will ever be to him.
She is an idiot in love, the loneliest person, the kindest heart, the saddest girl.
A bright smile is painted on her face to hide the damage and the pain.
She is wise beyond her years, wisdom gained from aching in the misery of a broken heart.
She sacrifices everything.
She is surprised that he is mad because she doesn't care anymore especially since he was too blind to see how he hurt her, to see how he sucked the life out of her.
She goes through life saying "I'm fine"... it is her biggest lie.
She loved him so much it physically hurt.
He came into her life so unexpected, he robbed her, he hurt her, he toyed with her heart, he lied to her, he treated her like she mattered only to ignore her.
He chased every girl under the sun but her. She asked in whispered tones, "Why not me?"
"Why her or her or her when no one could ever love you the way I love you?"
She bore her soul to him, she trusted him.
He thought it was just a game. He quit. She lost.
Her worth and value determined by how he treated her and discarded her.
She died a thousand deaths loving him.
To her he was perfect.
Then he used her and left her lonelier than the last person left on the earth.
She didn't want to change him. But he changed her.
He didn't need her. She needed him.
He made her bloom like a flower. Then he crushed her petals.
He taught her to laugh again. Then reminded her why she had started to cry in the first place.
His words touched her until she realized they were empty but his actions spoke volumes.
She was just his entertainment for a fleeting moment. He was her love for a lifetime.
She asked about him, took an interest in his life but he gave one word responses and acted like she was a bother to him.
Her hurt her. Over and over again. But she kept going back to him.
It didn't matter that she was there for him. He wasn't there for her especially when she needed him most.
She had to be her own superhero.
She had to be her own knight in shining armor.
She had to be her own best friend.
If she couldn't be then who would?
He told her it was okay to be herself, told her she was good enough, then he proved himself a liar.
She'll never be good enough.
She'll never be loved.
She'll forever live in sadness.
It is her fate.
It is my fate.
She is me.