Every story has 3 sides.
His.
Her.
And the truth.
This is what she thought was true.
. . .
She was put front and center,
Somewhere she didn't want to be.
The beginning,
She met more than three.
There he was,
Someone so popular, she thought she'd just be friends.
She was wrong,
About how everything would end.
But something pulled her back, something she was afraid of.
Her history,
Dragged her back two steps,
And she reached out for just something to love.
She was caught in a riptide,
Building walls to protect her from the current,
Instead of bridges to reach people.
She tried to remember to not fight fire with fire, as everything she loved, Burnt.
She tried.
She tried fitting in,
She tried being pretty,
She tried being normal,
She tried.
Later on she fell for what was love,
But it was just some false advertisment.
She let herself lose control,
She couldn't make herself permanent.
She left it as it was,
Taking shaky breaths
And waking up with "smile" on her face.
Every time she laughed it would change, as she didn't know what the hell it actually sounded like. It didn't hurt any less.
But everything changed when she started talking to him.
Her days got brighter,
And the smiles were hers.
She forgot about her laughing liar.
They were so close,
She knew they couldn't stay "just friends".
They'd talk for hours,
"Remember when's".
They fell for each other,
Having quick lunch "dates".
But soon he grew bored.
Love is just not her fate.
He told her of awkwardness,
And let her go.
"Better off friends."
She is now known as low.
She tries to stay strong,
But she can't even start conversation.
The tears roll down,
As she punches her reflection.
She want to feel pain,
That isn't coming from this stupid disaster train.
But does she know his side of the story.
