Scattered across her heart are the bruises no one sees
Look at her as she dances
Almost as if she were a floating dream
But she has always treaded lightly
So that her thoughts would not drown her
How do you breathe when your lungs are clogged?
Almost as if they were vengeful ghosts
Her flowers bloomed every night
The thorns slowly cutting her open
Just enough to graze her without anyone noticing
Why do you think her eyes are rimmed with puffy dark eyebags?
She is walking with a trail of blood tailing behind her
And no one seems to realise
How hollow and empty her laughter has become
Or the lightning in her stormy eyes
