a girl once felt so alone
with no one to help her understand how she thought
quiet, she stayed, for the fear of saying something wrong
and the whole world would turn against her
she was kind and cared much about others
but no one seemed to want to do the same for her
until one day she found a book
and a rusty old pen
and began to write the secrets her heart spilled
the thoughts that kept her awake
the feelings she couldn't say to the person she loved
finally,
she no longer felt alone and was okay with herself
for all her feelings spilled onto the paper in front of her
or they spilled with the paint that danced on the blank canvas
rather than her feelings spilling down her rosy cheeks
and onto to floor
where they never belonged