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She sits alone on a bench.

No one cares to ask her name.

She's there.

But she's not.

She's invisible to the world.

They don't even try to understand her.

So she sits alone.

With her fractured heart cupped in her hands.

She is no stranger to pain.

Not in the slightest.

But it doesn't dull the aching.

She'd rather feel nothing at all.

What you see of her is only an empty shell.

An empty shell of the girl she used to be.

The world gently picked her up,

Only to clench her in its' fist and shatter her.

The world destroyed her.

And then turned away.

She's falling apart.

Wishing for someone to come and accept her broken soul.

To hold her.

To love her even when she hates herself.

She wants to be noticed.

If only you could see.

The broken girl over there,

Is me.