She was enamored with everything that touched the ground.
She was enamored with everything in the sky.
She had a love for everything.
She had a love for anything she looked at because she found beauty within it all. She saw the beauty in pain, the growth.
She saw beauty in the cadence of a heartbeat when you're nervous around a special someone. She saw beauty in everything.
Until the insensate people told her that the person she saw in the mirror wasn't.
She grew to hate the person she saw in the mirror, she noticed the extra skin when she turned her body at her waist, her too-skinny legs, her stretch marks, her acne, her thin lips, her thin eyebrows, her blonde eyelashes, and even hated the crookedness of her teeth.
Everything to her became something she needed to fix and was lost in how to. She doesn't know how to be a better friend.
She doesn't know how to love herself.
She rarely finds beauty in life.
She doesn't want to wake up anymore to see people and go to school like she once did. She doesn't even want to have friends.
She is so alone, yet she wants to be.
She doesn't believe she deserves any different yet to be sad.
She is dull.