The floral scent was enough to hide the odor of her bruises,
Eyes always see what the mind wants to perceive.
How ironical it is,
They tell her to breathe,
but never leave enough oxygen.
They tell her to grow,
But never leave enough room.
The fake trust was enough,
enough for her to open
As they say,
her body is a door
But is it?
They look at her,
Waiting for her to break like she is a fragile willow.
Her eyes have been frozen,
Sing her a song of comfort
They will start melting into tears.
She is a library
Of all the books she has read,
Of all the people she has met.
She smells like the stories that goes on in her mind,
She doesn't belong here.
World would be a different place,
If they let her live
The way she wants,
If they let her speak
What she thinks,
If they let her seek
What she aspires,
If they let her become
Who she really is
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