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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Cultural · #1244051
my spelling isnt the best
I see those eyes,
filled with pain,
the tears she is almost desperate,
to conseal and hold in.

I see her arms,
littered with holes,
all that is left over,
from her addictions with those needles.
Those needles she fills with anything,
anything for a rush,
anything to get high.
For an escape from her reality,
from her promblems she is desperte to hide from!

I see her stringy unwashed hair,
left long ago unkempt.
No reason left to care,
no hope left for the future!

Saw through her own lies and decietful ways.
Stripped herself of her own plastic,
molded,
carefully detailed.
completly false layers,
she once claimed to be her personality!

Leaving herself with nothing,
a hole,
a gap!
The darkness tha had consumed her,
changed her into what she so despies!

I see her dirty clothes,
the bruises on her body,
the way she shaks and trembles!
The way she walks around,
face held down in shame,
arms around her body,
like some kind of protective force field!

Her fight,
and determination,
slowly she is loosing!
With every cruel,
heartless,
insensitive word that gets said to her!
With every slap,
punch,
kick!
Everytime she is slammed agianst a wall,
or grabbed up by her hair,
and even by her neck!

Everytime she gets degraded or abused!
With every single tear she sheds,
and everytime she's had to yell stop,
she looses a piece of herself,
that she never will get back!

I see the little pieces,
that still remain of her shattered heart!
I feel the suffering,
the hurt,
the loonliness that has consumed her.

I feel all of her suppressed anger,
that she somehow manhes to control.
The anger that keeps her going,
that gives her strength to make it through each day,
that warms her like pure sunshine,
then burns within her soul!

I hear her thoughts as if they where my own,
her constant worrying about rather she was doing everything ok or not.
If she sounded to stupid,
or possiably to smart.
If she talks to little,
to much,
to loud,
to soft.

Wondering what she could do,
to make everyone else happy,
so she can play make-believe that she has herself some friends!

I know how she has grown to dread,
the long cold nights,
that she lays alone.
Craving the warmth,
that soft reassuring touch,
that goes with sleeping with somebody,
laying close and cuddled up,
tight in their arms,
that make your dreams more sweet!

I understand her thoughts of self-detest,
thinking about how much better she would be,
how more people would start to like her,
if only she could change herself to better match THEIR,
fake,
bought,
applied at home,
dry clean only,
wannabe personalitys,
that fit in with todays twisted,
unnaturaly grown,
deprived,
grotesqly over rated,
disillusioned,
barbie play time view of how they think,
we as females should be acting,
talking,
walking,
even the clothes that we should be wear!

Yes I know her every thought,
emotion,
secret,
fear!

I know things about her that would suprise them all
and make them begian to wonder!
I know her better then anybody else!
I know her inside and out,
like the back of her own hand!

I am her best friend,
worst enemy,
toughest critic,
number one fan!

I am the one that she can trust,
whom will always be there!

I am the one who is cheering the loudest in the croud,
yet sabotoging it all from behind!

You see I know it al for a reason,
its not all by chance,
we're just about identical,
in every shape and form!

I've known her all my life,
so to make it easy,
my secret I shall tell,
you could we are one in same,
I am her,
she is me,
and we are the same person!
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