his voice is the only one she hears in the crowded hallway
his face, she sees everywhere
the way he walks, gets her everytime
Am I in love? she asks herself.
she realizes that she is but it won't ever be enough
crying herself to sleep, because he'll never love her the same way she loves him.
she hides in the corner of her bedroom, the door locked
can't talk about her thoughts, so they remain unknown.
they all ask her if she's okay, she smiles and replies,
"yea, I'm great."
when deep down she's broken.
she picks up the pieces of her broken heart,
searches for the glue to mend it.
nothing ever works, she never seems to be right for him.
she's never "the one"
with tear stained cheeks she sets the pieces in a box,
scribbles with a shaky hand,
"you can't even begin to understand, the pain you cause."
and shoves it under her bed,
hiding her broken heart behind a smile.