She's cursed, he thinks.
Nothing she did prevailed.
Nothing she says were worth it.
Nothing she feel is relevant.
She's disturbed, they say.
She's made of glass easily broken.
Easily cracked when touched,
Effortlessly destroyed when fallen.
She's ill-fated, you exclaim.
Found in dark alone,
A monster on her own,
A child of her witch-crafted thoughts.
She's dying, she cried out.
She needs help from drowning.
She needs air from suffocating.
She needs life from your worthless tongue.