The pages

The pages are rippled by the tears that she has cried. they crumble up like ashes, thrown to the wind. she says she is sick of the drama, wants to get out, wants to die. it is not her fault why she has grown up this way. if you ask her why her life is like this, it is because the choices of the past. at least that is what she would say. no details of the night before, probably cant remember. she hurts herself most every night, bleeds it all away. if she could drive, she would leave this place. she would runaway where her problems wont follow. by the expression on her face, it is easy to see that not everything is candy-coated. she let her anger build up inside, till finally it exploded. the consequences she is having to pay, her reputation is bruised and scarred. she wonders why no one cares. she wonders if we even see her there. she doesnt want to get too attached, afraid she will end up hurting you. how quickly she falls back into her habbits. all because you thought there was nothing you could do. well now you see why she is how she is. because no one wanted to reach out. it is killing her even more each day, wanting to know what life is about. screams and cries are all around her, chaos creates a haze, she looks down at her hand, covered with blood, lyes a knife, she knows this is the last of her days. she is swallowed by the clouds of confusion, and darkness covers her eyes. depressed by the thought that no one ever even tried, she is forever gone, never to return.

how many shall come after her?
how long till we get it right?
and how long well the lost and broken continue to put up a fight?