That girl.
A broken capsule by time. Let's rewind.
Neglect. She hides it well, a deep tattoo engraved on her chest.
Her web, untangled, is no use to catch nurturing love.
She will take what is allotted. She won't expect much more.
She had a fragmented mirror on her wall.
Views became distorted. Blinded by what she knew.
She cared too much. Apologies whispered by her quivering lips cause of the wounds left
on her frail hips.
But when he made her smile, she could let go of the hurt inside.
He cared to reach out for her hand.
And tragedies, they come.
And steal your only thing worth fighting for.
And leave you standing alone.
Hurt replaces hope.
Bitter vile on raw open wounds.
And the only way to cease the pain
is to bottle the infected blood drained, for reuse.