All that’s left is a shell now of the girl that you once knew, tattooed with the pain of her tears, no way out and no way through.
The shadow smothers her brightness, a dark cloak is wrapped over her skin. The pain runs through her veins like a drug now, you have no idea of the trauma she lives in.
All remains is a faint outline of her now, a case with no contents, a house with no home.
All she is a shell now, in every cell, in every bone.
Her face holds a story of sadness, mapped across it for all to see. No more soul lies behind her bright eyes now, that has gone and she can’t find the key.
She walks every day looking outward, in the hope that she isn’t noticed passing you by, because all that’s left is a shell now, she can’t face to see you, she can’t tell you why.
Empty spaces take over inside now, nothings there to keep her afloat, she sits in her pain all alone now, writing in her mind the final note.
See this girl passes you every day you just never take the time to look, to step outside of yourself and consider someone else, is just one chance she wishes you took.
All she is a shell now, no escape, no retreat, no gain. To live anymore, waiting for someone to walk through her door, she just cannot live with that pain.
When you pass her on your walk now, a smile is all that it takes. You have no idea of the light that gives her or the massive difference it makes.
See all she is a shell now, rebuilding herself every day. But to do it less alone, knowing someone else has known, makes everything more okay.
The girl you once knew is gone now, a lot of her has changed and that’s true. But there’s a key in life you can give her, and that is the heart of you.
This girl is laying new bricks now, foundations for a home she’s safe in. She refuses to just be the shell now; she wants to find what’s left within.
See, we are all shells now, you’re creating her too. But the love we can share, the hope through the air, will create a new magical you.
As my blog name says- there is no textbook!“
- Dear Dad… It’s been four years without you - March 18, 2023
- A letter to you- by Tom Planner - December 12, 2022
- A Pandemic of Grief - September 26, 2021
