Bare

She’s never actually

spoken to me,

but she’s told me

she was tired.

She said that she

doesn’t get much sleep,

and that last week her

dad was fired.

I heard it

when she hinted

that she didn’t

believe in God,

And that whenever

she tried to pray,

He told her she

was flawed.

And when I began

to eavesdrop,

I could hear her

heart’s cold tears.

And when I heard

them start to rush,

I had to cover

my ears.

I know that she

feels ugly;

she’s told me

through her smile.

The one that

starts off big,

but can never be

held a while.

Maybe she won’t

ever know her worth,

or even that she’s

been talking to me.

Or that i know

her story

that hurts

my eyes to see.