Quietly she fell, falling,
Slipping out of love, invisible,
Easily replaced, and her heart is sore,
Broken and she kicks,
Tears that taste like salt, but it's better
Then all that is empty.

They kick at her, scoffing,
Words and soft invisible actions,
Or things left unsaid, uncompleted,
Hurts so she has no brain,
Hurts beyond thoughts and tears,
It's not always but it's constant.

She wonders what would happen if she's gone,
Doubting the love, doubting they'd care.
The way they treat her, she doesn't know,
Invisible, her face is shrouded in tears uncried,
Her heart is ripped to pieces by uncompleted consequences,
Loneliness eating at her soul, trying to rip it away.

So she sits there, feeling uncared for,
When she needed it the most they left,
Her thoughts turn towards aching things,
The colors run and the colors bleed,
It'll never be her why she's living.

Life, when it's good it is good,
But things always get worse, and she hides,
She smiles and inside she's breaking,
And the facade even fools herself, for a while,
But of course every little lie is torn down,
And she feels as if she has no worth.

So she stares at her heart as she falls asleep,
Weakly patching it up with a bunch of lies,
Happiness is an illusion, because deep inside that heart,
There's a competition of anger and hatred,
Happiness is there somewhere, and misery fights as well,
She will never truly be given some worth.