-shattered pieces-

-who-

hi
do you recognize her?
she has big hazel eyes that shine every time she sees a Mcdonald's sign.
she has a laugh that she can't control sometimes. (especially when the jokes are told by her dad)
and every time tears threaten to prickle down her cheek, she always always finds someone to wrap her with a big, warm hug.

have you seen her?

because now i barely recognize her.

the hazel eyes carry now a drearier shade of brown and she absolutely abhors Mcdonald's.
(or at least that's what she tells herself. she's gained a few pounds, she can't afford to gain anymore)

she lost all her appetite. she skips her meals. and after every time she tries to eat, she finds herself sitting on the bathroom floor, pulling her hair into a ponytail, so very careful not to leave a trace of her vomit.

her father works longer hours now and barely gives time to talk to her. don't get her started on her mom.

the arms that used to envelope her with the warmth of a hug are now replaced by her own, cold arms, repeatedly telling herself she can live one more day. it isn't that bad. you'll get better. you just have to try harder.

no one sees the wreckage. as if everyone is standstill inside the eye of the storm and she, the hurricane itself.

she's tired. she's very tired. the kind of tired sleep can't fix.