Alone again,

It’s who I am.

The ghost of a girl,

A spectator in their world.

The story I follow

didn’t last long.

My heart is hollow,

the pages gone.

Icy spikes

Form in their eyes.

A cold, cold darkness

It’s my disguise.

Don’t let the light

Creep its way through,

Or it will unveil

My unsightly view.

Alone again,

It’s who I am.

Self-sabotage

reaches out its deathly hand.

Though years ago

warm and sweet,

Behind a mask,

I now retreat.

Confidence was not

So easily held,

And through the cracks in my hands,

Its sandy grains fell.

If only I hadn’t

Grown up to be shattered,

Then there wouldn’t be cracks,

And it wouldn’t have mattered.

Alone again,

It’s who I am.

But it’s not who I _was._

And not who I chose to be.