There once was a girl
She loves to make a scene.
To feel eyes on her,
not particular of who fancied.

She chased the love,
attention, affection, adoration,
that a childhood provides.

Normal is perceived as boring,
until boredom is a long estranged friend.
Maybe she chases adventure,
more likely fleeing demons.

Now is her chance to escape the pain,
uncertainty, regret, doubt,
No one came home,
No one can stop her finger.

One Loud Ring,
one last beat.

If a heart breaks,
can anyone see it.
If a heart stops,
everyone knows.