The Girl With The Broken Words

She lives a lonely life 
Not in the literal sense 
But in the sense where the walls of her room are but a mere manifestation of the ones around her heart, her mind,
Where the continuous lines on the paper are not capable of keeping up with her writing 
The one where she talks about how much she hates herself 
About how LONELY she is 
Because she realised that no one knows her 
Not the real her
 Where her self loathing pulses trough her veins l
The blood pumped by her barely beating heart