There's a story behind every person. Even the little girl that never talks about herself. She always makes sure everyone else is okay. Listens to all their problems, fixes the issue. Tho she never tells them about her problems because then they will try to fix the broken pieces that make her who she is. She has learned to live with the pain of disappointments. Yet can't seem to be okay with second place. Even tho she has watched them choose someone else over and over again she's still there for them. No one ever asks what's wrong or why, or at least not the person she wants to notice. They always seem to be the cause of the pain. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's the type of pain she enjoys. She doesn't cut or smoke. That's not what she wants. She would rather punch and scream. Feel the anger boil in her blood. Feel the sting in her knuckles. The burn on her cheeks when the tears come. The way the salt burns. That's the pain she's learned to like. That's the way she's grown up. At sixteen she can fix everyone's problems but not her own.
She won't even let anyone else fix it for her because she's strong enough to protect herself. This little girl has grown into a strong woman.
My heart might be in pieces, but
I've learned to use them as weapons.
