There are holes in her skin-
within her soul- they've been self-inflicted
self-made and beaten into her by choices
she made and allowed- there have been many
treading upon this flesh- taking what they needed
and forgetting all the rest-
she's turned her back on all the times she made herself bleed-
the reasons
and trusts she used to swim in-
they're nothing now but past memories
slowly floating past graves
and in throughout the daisies she's never found
and planted- plucked their petals have been
but the answer always lays
empty- consuming more of her soul
than you would ever allow-
than you'd ever know- because there she is dreaming-
absorbing the pain
that won't ever go away.
-a.
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