Always and forever alone,
she layed in bed with nothing to do.
Everyday that passed was relatively the same as the last.
It was routine at this point to say the least,
but she kept her hopes up on some kind of change about to happen
at any time.
She may be wreckless now,
but she's living by her own terms now.
Sick of it all,
Why be cautious if there's no one to be carful for?
Stupid reason sure,
she could hold herself when there was someone.
This time she's letting herself whither away;
starving herself again
cutting herself again
giving herself bruises again
doing inhalants again.
Doing whatever she feels like should be done.
She wasn't ashamed at all.
Not even a little.
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