Nineteen

 

When his knuckles broke the bridge of her nose
She wilted away like a withered rose
The blood stained like an ugly face painting
And she fell down in pain and passed out crying.

The nose healed, though a little not straight,
But she only wanted to be okay, not great.
For the wounds that heal leaves scars behind;
Scars you can look for but never find.

And that’s how they lost her in the crowd,
Lost her when the music was nice and loud.
She was looking for an escape, a subtle exit.
She was done with life; she just wanted to quit.

She had made a home with her despair
And perfected a disguise that she could wear,
So when death came, and it came at nineteen
They wondered how much more they had not seen.

The eulogies were long and sad; people cried
About a girl who had taken her life; who had died.
Nineteen was too young, but so was the boy
Who once broke her nose, now writing a note of goodbye.

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