She couldn’t tell her own story.
Well it was more like she wouldn’t.
She felt broken and the scars wouldn’t
let her forget every time she look into the mirror.
So she didn’t, she had gotten good at not using one.
She told the stories of others fragments of lives.
Conversation, glimpses into their souls.
But she never became close to them.
She changed names and places.
They always had a start, middle.
They always had a happy ever after.
Because in her life she never would.
That is how her story goes!

Kimber Michaela 2016


This entry was posted in Writing.

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