When they leave a mark,
she grew —
she rose out of grief;
even outgrew some hidden scars,
find some glorious jams — out of scars, she later discovered, a shady gem.

When they leave a mark,
she grew —
she bred out of bare sounds;
she then understood the relevance
of empty promises — its words and its absence
the mere thought that grows with it.

She then leaves a scar;
some strain,
some courses of her daily life — some parts of her,
even when she did not become a part of theirs.

She then rose —
when they leave a mark.

Pick me up,
And open my cover,
But be careful,
Cause I might crumble,
Read my fine print,
Just don’t mock the way I am,
I’ve been through alot since then,
Drugs,
Fights,
Heart breaks,
And more,
Are all the things you’ll find,
In my novel.

I often think about
How he took you to
That filthy motel and
Made you bleed just
So that he wouldn't