Not even she...

How much can your heart ache and ache
before breaking?
How much can one soul endure and endure
before disappearing?
How much can one mind ponder and ponder
before fading?

How much how much how much
I ask you
can one lonely girl go through
before breaking
before disappearing
before fading away and away away?

And all the while trying to smile
And all the while trying to hold on
And all the while willing herself to believe
that there is something else
Other than this
This mean sort of existing
This dance between fire and smoke
This dance between who she is and who she pretends to be.

How long before the curtain shreds?
How long before the stage crumbles?
How long before all comes tumbling out
A cacophony of misunderstanding and delusion and all-over pain

and angst so deep that she rarely feels it.
She's hidden it.
It's hidden itself.
And it bites deep and hard those few moments she has nothing else in her mind.
Nothing to hide behind.

Who knows her whole heart?
Not even herself.
She has scatter threads across her world
Touching other souls as lonely as she
Little bits of her heart they know.
But all? Not even she.