she is allowing her tears to fall again
after the day’s work of dying
inside.
she knows she is alone in this agony
she can’t ask anyone for help;
they won’t help
they just brush it off
and call her selfish
and she’s not.
i can assure you that.
her heart stings from the pressure she feels.
her pulse speeds up
and she stops breathing again.
it won’t come to a close
and she wishes and wishes it just could.  
cause her pain isn’t measurable,
it isn’t some simple math equation.
she can’t calculate why she’s feeling worthless.
empty.
blank.
dead.
she was almost a prodigy, but someone else took her place.
he’s got everyone laughing and he can start a conversation within two seconds of meeting someone new.
he takes initiative, solving problems right and left.
why can’t that be her?
she can’t do anything best.
what’s to trying?
she still won’t be able to breathe