do the math.

[this was found in my last year's math notebook; written sometime last year, quite obviously, and inspired by Manic Street Preachers' "She bathed herself in a bath of bleach"]

she'd walk on broken glass for love.

no matter what the others said - she knew he could change. he would change, she told herself every single day, trying hard to believe it, knowing deep inside that in reality, he never would.

her subconscious was right. he never did.

when, one morning, she finally seemed to wake from her utopia, it was too late. there was no one to turn to anymore, nowhere to go to get help.

she was stuck, alone in a mess her fantasies had created.

all she wanted was to get away. all she wanted was a new chance at life.

it was too late for her now.

she had already pushed away the chair wobbling beneath her feet.