She is beautifully disturbed, like a dark angel. Always and never wanting to be the good one. Checking herself into rehab and leaving the next day. Memories are smeared and always the same after the attempts to delete them. She goes about her business like it’s never hers, she walks from place to place and couch to couch always in a hurry. She thinks there is never enough time, sees herself through everyone else’s smiles and it makes her crazy. Excuses become I’m sorrys, and I love yous become I need yous but she will never say it. Always looking for music to subject her defeat. She’s exactly like a soldier who fights for his country but can never get married to his sinful partner. She’s exactly like a prickled rose in the middle of smooth flowers, it never gets picked up because of it’s thorns. She will never admit the past and will yell and scream and run if you decide to bring it up. Her hair is always never the same, and she likes it that way. She’s like a tapeworm, although I will never tell her, she’s always inside of someone else eating them away while she gains strength. She is a beautiful monster, just like the devil itself, and I love her.