Disguise: The relapse (6 years later)
She didn't see herself the way others saw her.
They saw beauty. Bright eyes. Red lips. And a white smile.
Her wounds blinded her though, She saw another lie in every freckle.
Brokenness behind her eyes. Numbness in her smile.
They saw a beautiful girl. She saw damaged goods.
She didn't care anymore. She cursed with every thought.
Never hesitating to speak her mind. You were going to hear her.
That's what people liked about her. How she was anything but ordinary.
To her, that's why she was always alone. She wasn't like them.
She was meant for something unthought of, the above and beyond type of thing.
That's just her.
She was the dark thought in the back of your mind.
The 3 am phone call when you're drunk and lonely.
The last cigarette in your pack. The last of your drug.
She was that thing that you love, But that is no good for you
..Always leaving you needing more.
She made this person. Being the good girl was what broke her
She had become hard. Cold even.
Getting the best of her was now impossible.
She was already sitting at the bottom & entirely full of demons.
She was scarred from head to toe.
You couldn't see them though, Oh no.
She was an actress & she put on one hell of a show.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
l8nightsnippets
Single mom. Domestic Abuse survivor. Trauma bond breaker. Put the real back in writiing. These are my life stories. Some may be disturbing while some may be inspiring. That is up to you, the reader. Thank you. This is the first time I have published any of my work since 2006 on starlitecafe, those poems are still there if anyone would like to see them they are under the account sweetlilbrownie. I am very self concious because these are so personal. Give grace.
View all poems →Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.