This is how she looked



There she was.
So scared. So fragile.


Unable to say a word.
All beaten down.
Clothes ripped. 
Unable to be herself.
Unable to say what she really meant.
So she went with it; she let it happen.
All of it.
All the bad; all the good.
‘Get that weight off your shoulders.’
‘Lift it.’ The shy voice inside her head continuously said.
‘One day, maybe.’ She replied back. 
When she could; when she wanted to, she thought she would be able to.
‘Any day now’ She told herself. She carried on.
She was the waves in her ocean.
Wild. Without thought; without any direction.
But that glorious day never came. 
She was still the same.
Same old, same old.
Not herself, not pretty.
Unable to paint.
She was what she was. 
A nasty mush.
A shadow in the dark.

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