i can make pain beautiful

[l_chappell]

she draws her knees to her chin,
making herself as small as possible.
"he can't hurt me, he can't hurt me" is her mantra.
but he can. and does, again and again.

He waits until late at night,
when feelings are raw,
and rips apart my innocence;
he steals a part of my soul: respect.

He waits until I trust him,
when my secrets are bared,
and shreds every memory I cherish;
he steals a part of my soul: hope.

He waits until days of contentment,
when my guard is down,
and shatters my self-confidence;
he steals a part of my soul: love.

She no longer sees faces, only hearts,
for her soul-less see through you.
Now that there is nothing left to steal,
she has respect, hope, and love...
for all the wrong things.
and none for herself.