"..."

She dwells in his pocket constantly in despair, shes full of colors gone faded and clings tightly to a charm bracelet promise. She speaks in words dispersed through tears with dull ragged edges, light has escaped her eyes and the voids have been filled with bitter sweet tears, yet she keeps them open for the occasional glimpse of her belove(d) owner. Her only comfort is her tears, and his occasional gentle hand. She’ll always be there. She’s confined to this voluntary asylum, she’s paid to stay there by cans full and unfull of shady chances, with cupfulls of hopeless hope and a few smooches on her cheeks. She knows of nothing more of this world than his cheap wages and his weak attempts to care; she stays for the warmth in his pocket. Little does she know that its for his own convenience, not for love, or care, not even pity; but to fulfill his empty jug of ego with the misery of this girl. With a whip of his hand out she comes, to fill the gaps in the missing places, to fit into the holes of his twisted puzzle. To remind himself that its okay to be reckless and slithery, to remind himself that its okay to lie, that its okay to deceive and play mind boggling games. To remind himself that he will always, always, be secure. She feels every step he takes every jiggle and wiggle, she peeks out her window and sees every rival. She closes her eyes and smiles when its time for rewards, she gets a pat on the head for being there and maybe a little kiss, and each time he pets her poor weary heart, she mistakes it for a sprinkle of hope or an opening door. Like a pet pup, she knows of nothing better than to lick the same filthy hand which strikes down to hit her. She resides in his solitude and keeps warm through her tears, she draws lines in her wrists with silver metal edges to focus on the crimson; to blur the aching of her heart. Hope creeps closer to her through distorted perceptions while false hope grows rampantly in reality. One Day she will grow strong enough to break these plastic chains off her heart, one Day she will grow smart enough to see his twisted little script, One Day she will be independent and walk away and never look over bruised shoulders. One Day, does not exist, nor will it ever come.