Her.
the girl in a messy bun and sweatpants,
the girl who’s always smiling, giggling,
the girl everyone falls in love with.
Her.
the girl who breathes through her horrific pain,
the girl with tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes,
the girl who has a hole in her chest.
Her.
the girl who will never truly be vulnerable with anyone,
the girl who wants everyone to open up to her,
the girl whose only desire is to be the person she wishes she had.
Her.
The girl who will do anything to ensure that no one feels what she does:
An emptiness so lonely,
An abyss so dark,
A life so numb.
But always with aching cheeks,
Hurting from the forever-fake smile
that somehow always just seems so real.
“I’m okay,” she’ll say.
But with her,
It never has been,
And it might never be
Okay.