Stranger

She's been the been the tool in their box, their roll of toilet paper and the straw to their cup.

She's been used.

I quite frankly cannot understand what's going on in her head. It's as if I look into her mind a see a haze of misty fog. Every once in a while I see flashes of light swallow her mind but I feel the darkness over come it and return back to its fog.

She wore her heart on her shoulder (since she hates sleeves) and it's slowly on the verge of disappearing with every shatter her heart takes.

She loved it. The feeling of her heart being exposed.

Silly her. It has shattered.

She's opened her eyes a little wider (even though her eyes are awesomely huge) and has finally saw reality.

She's locking her heart up and continuing the rollercoaster of life.

'She' of course is me.

Sophia Hart, nice to meet you.

No you may not see my heart.