The girl you see on the train With a piercing to commemorate each heartbreak Has a few in places you can't see — Because you can't know her relationships; You don't know her heartbreak, or pain. Instead, you count the suitcases and handbags she is lugging.
The girl who got a new piercing each time her heart broke Has more smile lines on her face than studs, So you can see she has had a fair measure Of good moments: She is not all rough edges and elbows.
But what you don't know, And can't tell From looking at her alone, Is that she got a tattoo Each time that she moved on.
The girl with as many piercings as heartbreaks -And as many tattoos as movings on- Has eight pieces of jewellery Strung through her skin, But only seven markings Inked into it, Because she knows she'll never quite get over The one she can't quite forget.
You'll have to speak to her to know her— A stranger on the train— And let her tell you about her life; And one day you'll hold her hand As she gets her eighth tattoo done. Break out of your bubble, if only because One day, eight heartbreaks in, you'll help her break even.