she looked at her reflection in the mirror
as a single tear escaped her eyes
she choked on words she could never say
and wondered if their words were really lies
she had been promised the world
yet here she stood afraid and alone
she stared at her scars and recent cuts
and she knew she would never belong
she would never be enough for anyone
thats what the voices in her head seemed to say
she wasn't even worth the air she breathed
she wasted away more and more each day
scars where either a comfort or a reminder to the pain
she liked them more at the darkest of night
but in the light of the day the others saw
and wondered why she was never alright
why her whole body shook when men were around
why those memories were never erased
why her lips quivered when she was addressed
why she never spoke out of place
she cuts to feel and feel and feel
but there is nothing to erase that ache
so she feels the pain day and night
so that her fragile heart won't break

Isn’t physically quick or agile.

Disappears in libraries.

Has been known to dissolve into the physical pages of books.

Is good at tucking herself into the stacks and retreating to reading nooks.

Blends in at coffee shops where her voice can be drowned out by the grinding and the steaming.

Can become indistinguishable in the dark of theatres, in the quiet shuffle of art galleries, the finger-snapping of poetry readings, the hum and jostle of the Tube.

Is indistinct. Adept at hiding in plain sight.

A late lark twitters from the quiet skies;
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day's work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, grey city
An influence luminous and serene,
A shining peace.

The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze.  The spires
Shine, and are changed.  In the valley
Shadows rise.  The lark sings on.  The sun,
Closing his benediction,
Sinks, and the darkening air
Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night--
Night with her train of stars
And her great gift of sleep.

So be my passing!
My task accomplished and the long day done,
My wages taken, and in my heart
Some late lark singing,
Let me be gathered to the quiet west,
The sundown splendid and serene,
Death.

Out of the night that covers me,
  Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
  For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
  I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
  My head is ******, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
  Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
  Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
  How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
  I am the captain of my soul.

Here's to those
who seldom sleep.
To those in the shadows
who silently weep.

Here's to those
who feel all alone.
To those whose company
are the thoughts they own.

Here's to those
who sing of silence.
To those who are
sick of violence.

Here's to those
whose world is a stage.
To those who hide
their sorrow and rage.

Here's to those
who toss and turn.
To those who watch
their dreams crash and burn.

Here's to those
who starve for affection.
To those who face
merciless rejection.

Here's to those
who hide their past.
To those who think
love never lasts.

Here's to those
who wait for a letter
to tell them that in time
it all gets better.

It is difficult to laugh
than to cry.
It is difficult to live
than to die.

It is easy to do wrong
than to put something right.
It is easy to forfeit,
all without a fight.

It is easy to yarn
than to share.
It is easy to be indifferent
than to show that you care.

It is difficult to sit
and to patiently wait.
It is difficult to love
rather than to hate.

Mum, I have dreams
that I wish would come true.
That doesn't mean I neglect
the ones dreamt by you.

Dad, I have wishes
that I dream at night.
That doesn't mean I feel
that yours aren't worth a fight.

Mum, I know I am difficult
and that I nag and whinge.
But your words are sometimes painful
and often make me cringe.

Dad, I know I am different
and that I prefer being on my own.
But, you always misunderstand, thinking
that I like being alone.

Mum, I am sad
and I always hide my tears
because I am unable to fathom
what is it that I fear.

Dad, I am frightened
of something I don't know.
It mortifies me so much
that I find it hard to show.

I do love you both
and I know I rarely say it
because I feel I'm born in a world
where I shall never fit.