I'm tainted.
Trashed and torn.

I need to be a ghost, a shell of a girl again. Untouched. Unmarred. Unbruised.
Need to be the cracked white lines of stardust that fall from the night skies like tears from a child's eyes.
Searching this fucking cliché excuse for a world, trying to find one simple word that hasn't been used to the point of exhaustion. Trying so desperately to sting together a sentence that hasn't already been said a million times over. Searching so hard to find the perfect words to the perfect story. Lines of poetry so easily spilt from the tips of trembling lips of lovers.
Is there nothing pure left in this world?
Nothing beautiful.
Nothing fucking sane anymore?
Isn't anyone left to hear these words? Is there someone lost among the mechanical bodies, jerking movements and blinking red lights? Eyes that can't see the end of this tarnished road, bricks askew, building crumbling at her touch. She can't find what she once thought to be so dear. Can't hear the voices of the loves she once knew.
Lips parted, a thin trickle of blood falls from a wet tongue. Bloodied tear-drops splash the ground, seeping into cement to feed the soil miles beneath. And suddenly, where she stands is only dust.