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Poem

She never looked nice, she was just like a piece of art,
And art is not supposed to look nice, it’s supposed to make you feel something,
Some days she felt like a human being, while other days she felt more like a sound,
She touches the world, not as herself but as an echo of who she was,
She never expected that he would become her deepest scar, well at least not yet,
She began to think if she was always entitled to go where she is not wanted, 
But then again, she remembered, she had never been anywhere she was wanted,
She loved in a way she wished someone could love her,
It’s like he said, “show me your thorns”, and she  willingly showed him her hands ,ready to bleed,
Constantly finding herself getting mad over pain even if she moved past it,
Cause she still don’t understand why she deserved it,
He taught her about love, even though he couldn’t give it to her,
And now he is just a stranger with all her secrets,
“Tell me again about the part where grief is not my name”,her everyday thoughts

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