She sits alone
in the corner
filling it with shadows
of her thoughts.
She tastes the bile
on her drawn down lips
as she feels the heaviness
of her blown out heart.

They sit together
in a huddle
as they laugh at
her painful hurt.
No one knowing
but yet still judging
anything they can grasp
with their sneering eyes.

They continue on
judging and judging
repeating the thoughts she already hears.
Until one day, that girl,
she isn't in the corner.
And the thoughts disappear
along with the mockery,
they finally stop laughing.

No one close
leaving me feeling deserted
and stranded being                              me.
I never feel
that I'm deserving.
All the voices in my head
are finally winning.

No one hears
my pleads and tears
that streak down my face.
Looking in the mirror
I don't recognize                                myself.
The reflection showing
someone entirely different.

No one sees
my shattered heart
laying on the ground at my feet.
Feeling yet another ache
spreading through my veins.
This is it, this will
finally break                                          me.

I'm tired of the rules-
the regulations-
on what beautiful means.
It's not a definition
you can copy and repeat.
It's something you just be.

Heart throbbing,
the unnatural tune
that comes with heart ache.

Mind running,
the hectic thoughts
that comes with forgetting.

Tears swelling,
the bursting river
that comes with missing.

Body numb,
the buzzing killed
that comes with sadness.

The hardest part
is the training.
When you suddenly
tell yourself not to
think about it.

The hardest part
is the wishing.
Trying to fix
whatever went wrong
so you can begin again.

The hardest part
is the crying.
Telling yourself
that it doesn't matter,
but you know it does.

No, the hardest part
is the missing.
Trying to hold
yourself up
as you're falling apart.

The feeling drains
from my legs
as I try and pretend
that I don't care.

I feel the burning
in my chest
as I forget to breath
when I walk by you.

I feel the pull
in my hands
as I reach for my phone
forgetting we're done.

I feel the stinging
in my eyes
as I cry yet another tear
about to say goodbye.

An elephant
sitting on my chest.
Heavy and hurting.
Making it hard to breath.

Gray clouds
blocking my eyes.
Thick and tiring.
Making it hard to see.

The umbrella
not opening above  me.
Broken and bearing.
Making it hard to feel.