You whisper in my ear
My thoughts
And every fear

You know all my weaknesses
You see every flaw
You know all my secrets
You see all my scars

You tell me there is no future
And force me to believe in nothing

You tell me not to speak
Not to raise my hand
You tell me just to smile
Even though none is there

I am but your puppet
Nothing but a doll
You force me to want perfection
When I have none at all.
      
                    —Bella Crosthwait

With a smile
Made of pearls,
And her eyes
Filled with oceans,
Her skin
Fair and perfect,
A beauty
Beyond compare

She carries the weight,
Of a million suns
Her body aches,
With the weight alas

Her heart of glass,
Fragile but big
The cracks from her past
Are but shards from the fall
The fall that had shattered her
But not her all

Once again she climbed her mountain
So she could put back together
The final beautiful peice

              —Bella Crosthwait