Queenie7

There sits the girl with the things in her eyes Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins Little red houses on roads left to fade Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade Blood pouring out as she cries her own name Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame She could have stopped it and left it behind All of these things in her troubled young mind She could have saved them if she dared to try Rather, though, she left herself there to die. Now, others watch as she