So turn her into this person
Now no one new will know the past
If she's sane no one will know for certain
Old her was beautiful
But the new her is built to lastChain her up in a dungeon
Tell her it's all for the best
Hunt her down like you're a gunman
Cut her tongue when she protestsCall her manipulative and abusive
Switch it on her every chance you get
But survival is based on being elusive
And playing nice is a fool's betMake her out to be this villain
Play her as the evil witch
Why should she try when it's your own grave you're diggin
And your last words will be: she is a bitchSay it now or forever remain silent
Say it for all to hear
The truth is in the product of her environment
And her anger is a front for your imposed fearEvery day she looks at herself
A book of her hurt is one of many
Collecting dust on her shelf
And she hates who she's become
But she'd rather see your pain than mine
You can blame her or the life she comes from
But no matter what—she is fineRemember when you see her
She was once happy too
It all may be impossible for your detection
But she has mastered pain's reflection
Remember who she once was
And be afraid of her now
Because pain can ruin any cause
And you could be forced like her somehow

YOU ARE READING
Pain's reflection
PoetryShe used to be soft. Honest. Readable. But the world doesn't nurture soft girls-it sharpens them. Now she is everything they fear: silent, unreadable, and alive in spite of it all. This is the reflection pain created. And if you're not careful, you...