Pain.

Broken.

Shattered.

I wipe my face clean, to see the girl who didn't mean to be.

Those rosy cheeks, that scar on her chin,

She was the sweetest girl, but was forced to sin.

Eyeliner running, lipstick is smudged

Who would have thought that little girl would be gone?

His voice still lingers, like his stale cigarettes.

His emotional punches in the back of her head,

Ugly.

Worthless.

Bitch.

I promised to never succumb.

I look in the mirror and scrub the tears dry.

He just made me feel so dumb.

Looking left, right then up past the sky.

Anyting to avoid the girl in the mirror.

Look.

At.

Me.

She isn't as scary as I thought she would be.

Sea green eyes.

Rosy cheeks.

A smile breaks in my face.

Who needs Valencia or X-pro II or III?

Broken.

Is.

Beautiful.

and so is she.

Who needs make-up,

when all you need to do is

breakfree.