Tailoring Tayler

Comparisons comparing

Makes a pretty thing feel ugly,

One meaningless sentence that she kept hearing

Meant everything to her.

The pretty thing found sympathy

In the deep beats of the music 

Radiating through her headphones,

Drifting to her brain and coddling it for safety.

It was pretty again, her ghosts here gone.

After several strained weeks, an iceberg appeared,

And, like the Titanic, the pretty thing disappeared.

The strong tree was ripped from the earth,

And she felt like nothing was beneath her.

She was twisting and wailing,

Just waiting, waiting,

Waiting for the pain to stop. 

The tree is no longer a tree, 

But two seperate piles of paper, you see.

The pretty thing is no longer pretty,

She is crumpled and bruised

Because all she seems to hear is bad news.

Tailored to be human, 

Made to get up again.