I am that helpless fly struggling to break free from a spider's web.
The one that awaits inescapable predetermined death.

I am the moth who quietly hovers above a candle's open flame.
The one who could care less about if its wings caught fire or hadn't.

I am the girl.
The one who silently sat by as her heart shattered within her chest;
pain filling her.
Pain that bore a familiarity to the first time she gained hope that everything would turn out for the better.

I am the girl.
The girl who would carelessly make the mistake of letting you back into her conciseness.
The girl, who no matter what she progressed through, continues clinging to the fondest fleeting memories.
Ones that only, with imitational happiness, shroud the grief and agony she has been put through.

I am that foolish girl,
who even after all this time still welcomes you with
open arms and tear stained cheeks.