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The Lost Girl

"She wanders around, tear streaks might as well be painted on her face..."

By Hum LimPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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She wanders around, tear streaks might as well be painted on her face. Her composure doesn't say much, her glossy gaze strays as she tries to find her place.

She feels like screaming yet no sound escapes her lips,

On the inside she is hurting, no one notices those scars on her wrists.

She wants to pull out her hair, go mad from all the voices in her head telling her to kill herself and wishing she were dead.

Life is seen as just waiting to die and this girl is also waiting to live, she hates herself truly, no beauty she finds within.

This girl is lost, no one to turn to, will she ever find her way, or continue to sulk in her emotional cage?

She feels like she can't escape, can't choose to do anything different, she has always been a lost girl, how can she be something different?

Those scars, bruises and aches within are the only thing she ever knew, how can she expect to find new ways that will help to see her through?

sad poetry
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