Her average-American life

All she had left
Was the darkness,
The darkness that lures
In the back of her mind,
Even when it's not night.

And an empty soul,
Left shattered,
In pieces.

Along with her aching heart,
Which seems
To be dieing out.

Her pain grows
On the inside,
And spreads it way
To the outside.

Why would someone want to love that?
Is what she thought,
Every night
Before the blade,
Pierced her skin.
Before she cried alone,
For hours
Before bed.

How everyone faked their love
Towards her.
And oh,
How she hated it so much,
If only they would show the truth.

Reviews

[Lover Of Words]

All she had left
Was the darkness,
The darkness that lures
In the back of her mind,
Even when it's not night.

And an empty soul,
Left shattered,
In pieces.

Along with her aching heart,
Which seems
To be dieing out.

Her pain grows
On the inside,
And spreads it way
To the outside.