October 13, 2009
By , pleasant valley, IA
(Its all she’s ever known.)

She’s always been
Just... a cliché

[Romance novel.]
One of the books that are

[Full of]
The [fluttery stomach] type of

The somewhat mysterious,

Used over and over again,
[Just another book on the shelf]
She knows what she is.

She doesn’t know how
To make it better.

Its not out of the ordinary
For her to find herself taken
And picked apart page-by-page
By the people who don’t even understand

How it feels to be all about


And pain.
But I guess nobody ever really
Cares anymore.

She is stained.

[Dirty boy’s]
Glitter- covered fingerprints
Lining every nook and cranny of her pure essence
With disaster,

Creating a sparkling [sculpture].
Of bad dreams. [What will happen now?]
Too bad it’ll just make things worse...

Dreams of the love that she only
*Wishes upon a star for*
Have vanished from the “worthy” list.
In a world where her fingers are only

Inches away from the vanishing point,
Dreams don’t come true.

So why even bother to wish

Upon a


She plead until her voice started cracking,
“Please don’t let me disappear”

Paper shall wear thin.

Eventually [break.]
She is only a novel after all.

No matter how tattered her fragments have become...

[Breathe in the essence of imperfection,

Just a little while.
I promise it’ll be better than the rest.

You’ll only be like this a bit longer anyways.

Enjoy it while it lasts.
[You might miss it later darling.]

She reads herself from beginning to end,
Training her eyes to pick apart every

Every single sentence,
Until each letter was shaped

In the end,

I guess we’re all just striving for


[The sad part is,

We’ll all die trying.]

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