She hides behind a wall,
Armor really,
Figuratively, and literally.
To keep her from letting people in,
To keep her from getting hurt,
To keep people away.
Behind the wall, the wall of armor,
Is sarcasm, laughter,
endless talking,
Craziness, loudness,
and
also,
there’s a young girl,
a child really,
locked up inside,
buried underneath years
of abandonment,
loneliness,
heartbreak,
depression,
and time.

That little girl,
The child inside her
Is rarely seen,
But it comes out from time to time,
But she is wary,
So, so wary.
She doesn’t want to get hurt,
So she hides,
She hides her feelings,
And built up another image,
A person who hides their emotions,
The inner turmoil,
The pain,
And never asks for help,
Even when she so desperately needs it.
A little girl who grew up,
And refused to get hurt,
To show hurt,
Because if she showed hurt,
She acknowledged its existence,
And gave it power,
She showed weakness,
And shed let her guard down,
Let someone in,
And she could get hurt,
The person could leave,
Or she would.
But she was always alone,
Always foreign,
New,
Alienated,
Afraid.

Buried underneath
The false happiness,
The fake smiles,
Sarcasm,
And the child,
Was the teenager,
The mini adult,
Who hid behind the walls of armor,
And the child inside.
The teenager
Plagued with anger,
Sorrow,
Abandonment,
Loneliness,
Pain,
And depression.
The broken soul
Hidden underneath
Two faces,
Two true selves,
Two hidden lives,
Two secrets
That hide behind the other,
Neither wanting to get hurt,
Wanting,
no,
longing
To belong,
To stay,
For someone to hear their broken cries,
For someone to see their pain,
To see their inner turmoil,
To see underneath the mask,
And the see how much it hurts,
How much it hurts,
When they leave.

The lonely child:
The forgotten image of happiness,
And belonging,
The deep need for acceptance,
The hope burning deep inside,
And the affectionate being
who only wanted a friend;
And the broken teenager:
The buried image of sorrow,
The dying hope, and agony,
The longing for happy days,
And a place to call her own;
hiding behind a mask,
neither wanting to be seen,
or hurt,
but so desperately,
so very desperately,
wanting to be heard,
to be noticed,
seen.
They wanted to be fixed,
Healed,
Made unbroken,
But how?

Friends won’t,
Friends leave,
They never stay,
They abandon them.

Love won’t,
For love doesn’t last,
It doesn’t heal,
It’s a faint flicker of light,
In a sea of darkness.
A star,
Thousands of miles away,
Alone,
In the endless darkness.

Hope might,
But hope isn’t enough,
It’s a fleeting breeze,
A gentle cool breath
On a scorching, humid day,
A passing feather,
Trapped in the hurricane,
Beaten down
By the heavy winds,
And pounding rains.
A fleeting thing,
But light,
And can be carried so high,
So fast,
And can crash down,
Shattering on the hard ground,
Splintering like glass upon the pavement,
Lost in the dazzling brilliance,
The tiny pieces,
The empty dreams,
Destroyed hopes,
Broken hearts,
The lost souls
Crying out,
Crying out for mercy,
For love,
For hope.

She is a child,
Who grew up too fast,
And she is a teenager,
Who never had a chance
To grow up,
To be normal,
To live without fear of abandonment,
Loneliness,
the monster of anxiety deep inside,
The anger in her heart,
The depression
Buried so deep,
So very deep.

She is the armor,
The mask she hides behind,
The face you see smiling,
Even through the internal tears,
The inner voices screaming,
Screaming to be heard,
To be unbroken,
To be left alone,
For you to stay,
For you to see her,to see beneath the armor,
To see the pain,
Loneliness,
Heartache,
And depression.
She wants to be seen,
But how?
Especially when you are blind,
to the armor,
to the little girl,
and to the teenager.
All one girl,
But totally separate,
And all who want one thing,
To be seen.