She knows. She knows.

The other day she found out. She's convinced that help is needed. She shouldn't know. She shouldn't have seen. She doesn't need to know. She doesn't know everything is a mess. But she doesn't need to know that. An emotional mess. A mess inside everything.

She wants to change it but she can't. It's not that simple. It's not that easy. Nobody understands. Nobody gets it. Nobody knows. Impulse, temptation, everything haunts. Everything taunts. A weak little piece of nothing. A coward. Everything is spinning. Wondering what will happen, wondering if she's right.

Alone. Dark. Depressed. Run away and cry. That's it. Disturbed, affected, torn, confused.

There's only so much one can do before one breaks down. Yelling. Screaming. Fighting. They're inevitable.

Nothing is bright and happy anymore. Everything is dramatic. Growing up is scary. Growing up is unwanted. Growing up is un welcomed. But it's inevitable. One can't run away from time.

Everything was so simple. Everyone was happy and nobody was hurt. Now dark clouds loom over and they stay. Yell it out. Scream it out. Take it out on something alone. Terrible moods, sad songs, desires, needs, wants.

Stress, anger, and frustration takes over. Tears, screaming, crying, and yelling settle in.

Things are awkward because she knows now.

She shouldn't know.

Intense.