she is a hostage to her own emotions she is a trainwreck that
causes traffic she is missing in action she is relentless she is insomnia
she is depression she is a 10 paged project that you wait
last minute to start her skin spells out different words that no
one can pronounce, but they ryhme with insecurity and
anorexia her favorite color is a mix between lilac and gray
her favorite flowers are nonexistent because she is the
type of girl to grow flowers where only weeds grow
she is unknown to everyone she meets she is a whisper
among violent storms she is a catastrophe among smiling faces
she is not a metaphor she is not a simile she cannot
be put into words she cannot be broken down into language
if you cut her she will not bleed instead she will cover it up
with a sad smile and the same phrase she always uses: I'm fine
(h.l.)