all alone
standing in the street
dark rain &
bruises on her feet.
not that you can see
(there's not much left anyway)

Its just another day:
another yellow grin
another forced thing, she has to choke
before her fingers down her throat
where she loves and hates to be.
(not that you can see)

Jealous eyes dissect
obese sizes &
issues she can't see.
her promise
It's she'll guarantee.

Hates and loathes herself
and everyone she is.
loved and hurt herself
and everyone in the way.
wrapped up, paper cuts her
wings clipped and frail.
empty box, always lost &
without blusher she's pale.

hides the scarlet stains
jealous eyes
And the pale light of day.

a/n: I guess I know this kinda sucks, but its one of those poems that mean so much you can't let go of it...