She doesn’t speak when you ask her to talk.

She won’t take one step if you asked her to walk.

Her eyes would never catch yours.

She’d not want to touch you whatever the cause.

She’s hurting and broken and thinks you forgot her,

She thinks badly about herself and would sooner be…not her.

She doesn’t know which words to choose, so she doesn’t deign to choose,

She feels like a loser, she’s confused, her heart is broken and bruised.

The reason for this, she would never tell.

Her agony, her problem, her darkness, her hell.

She hides it, stuffed into the nighttime, but she won’t weep even then.

Even though the movie of it replays over and over and over again.

She’s hurting and broken and thinks you forgot her,

She thinks badly about herself and would sooner be…not her.

She doesn’t know which words to choose, so she doesn’t deign to choose,

She feels like a loser, she’s confused, her heart is broken and bruised.

If you wanted her to let you in, you’d be mistaken.

She’s not been the same since her innocence was taken.

There’s nothing for her, she thinks she’s already in hell.

And though she won’t say it, you can already tell.