5 : 5 9

169 18 6

Everyone had left

I mean they were there, but not really

They pretended to care

And would ...casually ignore

Every time she got no reply

Her heart would crack

For her soul was fragile as glass but her hate for herself as strong as the fire that burned inside

And thus, scars formed constellations ever present on her wrists, her thighs or anywhere she could hide them

A constant reminder of the tragic hurried complexity deep inside her bones

and the cascade of tears

that seized her heart

and ceased emotion

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