There's a girl
Who's 13 years old
And doesn't know she's beautiful

And this girl
This fragile girl
Is scared of being alone

She's so scared
That she won't let us in
Because she doesn't want to hurt us

This lovely girl
She doesn't realize
That we think she's perfect

Perfectly imperfect
Perfectly human
Perfectly.. Perfect

When she pushes us
Though we will never go away
She sees herself in the same way we did (do?)

Unfixably broken
Completely unwanted
And left for dead on her own

And her porcelain skin
Is plastered with strawberry stains
And she moans on her own in the night

And every morning
The sun rises and the birds sing
And we patch her up and hope she'll be alright

Because we understand
We've had our turns on this ride
We're just hoping the ride ends early

She'll be weak
But we'll hold her hand
As she walks from the coaster

I am alone
but for once
I don't want to be.

After all this
time I spent
pushing you away

I don't know how
to ask you
to come back.

My intimates made me
A soldier, an unworthy god, and a stone.

My friends have since made me
A she, a songbird, and a candle flame.

But only you
Could make me
A poet.

I never thought glass
looked so similar to diamond.
It doesn't sparkle as much.
Lower refractive index.
But you seem to confuse the two
quite a bit
when it comes to me.
Maybe your mistake
was assuming the twinkling lights
were a result of my brilliance
rather than a reflection
of yours.

I thought I could drown
out the haunting melody, the notes
of sadness tinged
with despair running
through my head, a soundtrack
to my thoughts that I
begin to find sickening.

I thought that if I
filled my ears with you,
your chords, in major scale,
I would be deaf
to the minor
tune of myself.

All was discord and
cacophony as the music in
my ears met the music
in my mind and
I fled.