Damaged Goods.

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This darkness hangs around her neck like a rosary. 


Leftovers of what’s been had. Took her for granted, she was your fool. 


 


She hung on to your every word, every broken promise. 


She can’t seem to wrap her mind on how someone could fall in love with a monster like you. 


It’s never enough. 


You feed on the weak to gain your strength. 


Look what she’s become. 
This weakling. This broken girl. 


When one tells her she’s beautiful, she can’t see it. 
One look in the mirror can’t convince those eyes of hers that she could have everything. Everything her pretty, little heart desired. 


But no. 
Because in her mind, she isn’t want anyone desires. 


Never again will she look at herself the same. Never again will she think that she is worth more than the curse that is bestowed upon her. 


To walk the earth, alone and wandering.

Created: Jul 27, 2012

Tags: poetry

LilahJean Document Media