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Ill bow my head in silence as I let you walk away. I have been torn inside
and out for what seems like 100 years. Afraid to speak, afraid to feel I no
longer wish to be held in this dirty cage. Sometimes love wears sick
disguises as does lust which has seemed to turn into desperation. That
world of sadness can be rather amusing but also terribly draining. I will let
my arms fall down ,empty as they have felt for so long. Something precious,
something under glass, something that you can never touch, and if so are
harshly reprimanded for doing. All of the caring in the world and yet they
have taken me down and held me back. Of course everyone else seems to
know what is in my best interest. Id rather my life be dull. There is no longer
a passion and what seems to be to little to late eats away at me and every
day more and more I am smirking inside at such pathetic attempts. I am hard
to reach. The light has been turned off, my inspiration tossed

I always thought that she was bound for insanity, who would only laugh
and shake her head. She usually seems to be lost somewhere inside of
herself claiming that no one would understand, and in truth most would.
So many imperfections, true or false only she would know. The girl with
no confidence always stumbling over her accidents. Holding tight to only
herself she feels inferior to everyone. Although she has acting down to a
perfection and walks with confidence as she holds her head high, inside
she is shaking and wilting looking for a place to hide. She is told of beauty
on the outside and cries on the inside that it has to be a lie, she feels that
mirror are the enemy. There is not a soul alive that could live up to her
perfection only fools are surrounding. In love with herself because there
is nothing more available. Dark skies and closed doors are most entertaining.
So many people call her a friend she can give and give but never receive
most friends to her are as good as enemies. Trust no one is the rule one
she can never follow always ending up on the bottom. The girl with the
bruised knees and messy hair. She has told me she is waiting for a saviour.
Its my turn to laugh and shake my head. She believes that she is tattered
and worn. I believe that innocence is stored inside of her, just show her
something pure and real in return there would be acceptance.