by: Jeaneth Panti
The world tells that her emotions are repressed
Inside her cob-webbed heart,
layer after layer to hide her being.
But they don't know what lies inside -
She never stopped knocking on doors
That were long kept shut
not afraid of scraping old wounds
and taming other people's shadows.
She's a running mess of emotions and feelings..
trying to do everything
to fix her broken memories,
to be more than enough.
Not knowing that even if she's not,
She still is, different incountless ways.
It's difficult to understand her
Who she really is and what she really feels.
Most days, she barely recognizes her own pieces,
because she is too busy picking up the fragments
of other people's soul's and building them again
She seeks something, more than curiousity and hope
Her silent presence is not perfect,
But she is amazingly beautiful.