Around her people whisper,
quiet yet loud on purpose.
She knows that she is hated,
because of how she seems on the surface.
Quietly insecure,
she doesn't know who she is.
Silently broken,
failed her own pop quiz.
Where have I come from,
and where am I going?
Questions she doesn't know the answer to,
blood and tears forever flowing.
What's the point in living,
a life that has no meaning?
Even her dreams are disturbing,
always she wakes up screaming.. |
