She presses her hand up against the glass
Feeling the blood course through her body
That lets her know that she is still alive
At least in the physical sense of the word

She is still breathing, her heart is still beating
Even if she is battered, bruised, and broken
On the inside, where no one can see
The fractures to her mind and heart

Her tumble from the pedestal of Perfection
Left her second guessing the world she thought she knew
But she can still feel the coolness of the glass
She can still look at her reflection

And feel her breath catch in her throat
As she sees just how dull her once bright eyes are
And just how much someone can change
When her world crumbles away beneath her

Mommy's little miracle and Daddy's little angel
Has done everything they asked of her
But she will never be enough for them
Because they want more than she can offer

They want more than her mind and her heart
They want her to give up what little she has left
Just to be their own version of Perfection
A living, breathing trophy to show off to the world

But she isn't smart enough
Or strong enough
Or confident enough
To attain that standard

She turns away from the window pane
And sticks her hand in the pocket of her sweatshirt
Ignoring the tears as they fall from her eyes
And focusing only on the rhythm of her pulse