Sparkle Makes It Better

You can't see it, 

not from far anyway. 

The specs of color in the beautiful eyes that overflow and spill tears down pink cheeks,

Because even though it's four in the morning they can't seem to close long enough for sleep. 

You can't hear them from outside,

The thoughts that tear through her brain like a hurricane messing about whatever sense of order there once may have been.

You can't tell from hearing the world around you that the headphones aren't a form of disrespect,

Instead a form of self respect,

Steady blocking out the overwhelming sounds of the room making it impossible to hear herself think.

The smoking may be a bad habit, 

But she'd take the risk for the few minutes of being able to have a tangible reason for not being able to catch her breath. 

She'd never tell, 

The tears seem to come from nowhere because her life from the outside is nowhere close to hell. 

You would never know that she's started to lose so much sleep that she can't tell if the events of today have been a dream,

The days and nights tending to blend together when she wants nothing more than to fall asleep. 

It's not that the exhaustion isn't all consuming because it's suffocating,

There's something inside that she can't figure out and has no way to silence the silent screaming. 

So much to do and to be done and so much she wishes she could do,

Invisible force keeping her in bed not able to leave the room.

The tension is tangible when she finally pulls herself out of bed and the universe its self seems to have a bitter glare focused on her, 

Ever the actress the "sparkle" she's so afraid to lose takes over so no one has to feel the same discomfort she does being around herself. 

Sometimes even though your brain knows better,

Your thoughts think the only thing you have to hold onto is your sparkle.