c h a o s

It hurt me to see her hurt.

Watching her sit there and squirm in her own misery showed me that a person can be so consumed in there own thoughts that they drown in sorrow.

Her asshole of a boyfriend didn't help things any either. I knew her so much better.

I know that on wednesdays after school she would go to the back of the building and and get a journal out from behind the dumpsters and jot down something in it and head to her car.

I know that she wears her hair down because she thinks her ears are to big. The way she fiddles with her earrings and huffs when when someone pushes her hair behind her lobe lets me know that.

I know that she joined poetry class so she can get away from her friends for an hour out of the day.

I know, that she isn't someone she wants to be.

I know that she's scared of something, or someone