could it be that she was broken way before it was decided by society's eyes?
How torn she looked at night ,
her facade falls under the stars,
Her eyes shed tears,emotions and secrets
No one knows , but she's been that way all along
The smile etched on her face
Now gone
As the same line now shows
on her wrists
Instead
written very long ago. Reading my old poems is a certain way I reconnect with my old self. Most of the times I wish I hadn't , I do not really want to see how bratty I had been .