Lost without hope, can never be seen, scared of the luck, that of number thirteen.
Can't regain happiness, no one gives encouragement, no one knowing caring what shes about, no one knowing that these scars, would have dangerous intent.
Everyone, silent whispers, she would walk by everyday, living on her own, nobody to care if she was okay.
Rainfall blue, in deep enmity. No ones love, no hope, or pity.
Walking miles within her head, all alone, maybe the person in her mind, a helpless clone?