Phoenix
Those books upon that shelf contain the poetry that I wrote myself
Not only for you but for me too
For me to see that maybe
Just maybe
I can be that phoenix that rises from the ashes
Instead of being that girl who lies about the scars on her arms
Instead of being that girl who is silently begging for help
She desperately needs someone to see that she may not talk much but she has walked a mile in those shoes you've so graciously looked over
She's trying to begin again
She's becoming that Phoenix that had to die first before becoming beautiful
She's beautiful and at peace