No one talks about those innocent girls that fall in love with themselves;
no one writes about those strong women that don't need a man to feel sad.
No one understands the beauty of their broken hearts,
how time seems to collapse:
air feeling heavier, blood running thicker;
the heart becoming thinner.
No one appreciates the joy of a mind bouncing on the edge of breaking down;
the greatness of an entire world detonating.
All the sharp pieces of a broken soul invading the floor
and a crying girl dancing with bare feet over the ruins of a castle of glass.
No one sees the power of sorrow and grief;
no one loves the magnificence of a killing pain.
No one notices the light of a dark mind.
That's because only sad girls know how to love a broken heart.
