The Used

She sits in the dark corner, all alone. She

Is passionate without knowing how to feel.

She can see happy people with their friends while

She can't sense any love.


She smiles for those around her, and

They never see her inner self,

They go on talking about the most random things,

And she goes along trying to hear.

They eat everyday with their happy meals

While she can barely touch what's in front.


Her parents don't trust her.

They take away things they promised her,

And she can do nothing.


They give her pills to stop the pain, even though

She's already had too much.

They say she'll be better when she's older, but

She doesn't want to be now.


She talks to people she has known forever, but

They don't see anything different in her.

Her old friends bash her like an empty can, and

Now she has nothing to be.


That's how the girl thought she was used, but

Time moved forward and so did she.

Soon her fake passion became one with

A real heartbeat.


A smile is no longer a facade, but

A piece of her that come naturally.

The random topics are fascinations to every 

Single part of the brain.


She eats.

Maybe too much, but

She is able speak and be at peace with

Those who really do care for her.


Her parents watch over her still, but

Not a moment goes by when she doesn't love it.

They give a damn.


Old friends are gone, and

New one’s bloom in the empty space.

Someone notices the little changes in her mood

Just by the way she breathes.


She no longer needs the pills to numb the pain

Because the pain has lessened.

Too busy to notice anything except what she needs,

Life begins to flourish in her.


She still sits in that dark corner, but

She is no longer alone.

Just a few years later, and 

She no longer feels used and broken.


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