It's in her eyes,
look close and you'll see.
The dark swollen circles defining them,
barely sleeping,
barely eating,
shivering naked,
bare to the bone,
on the fine line between life and death.
Look close and you'll see,
hollow heart,
shattered glass,
scarlet blood droplets,
salty tears on her cheeks,
on her lips.
She looks at you, out of all of them, in melancholy.
She thinks you're the one who'll notice,
because no one did and no one will.
She's begging,
pleading you to find out.
To ask her if everything is okay.
To save her from herself because she tried.
2 years, 7 months, 3 days, almost 4.
She struggles,
falls,
crawls,
barely find the strength to hold her legs up,
to keep her legs from shaking.
Falls again, cries herself a river, and the cycle begins again.
YOU ARE READING
Bits and Pieces
Poetry{GREAT THANK YOU'S TO MY BABY: FARAH (the_author15) FOR MAKING ME THIS DOPE COVER}. Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach; may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance. Don't leave me for a second, my dearest, because in...
