Who will be left to lay flowers at my grave? - Poem

Who will be left to lay flowers at my grave?

She cannot stand the strain anymore
Hard nails pierce soft skin bringing blood and pain but also a sense of relief
She is free of her anger
A great weight of misery and anguish has been lifted from her shoulders
Temporarily she can live life again
The bubble of sadness and hatred for life that was surrounding her has burst scattering its ashes far and wide
Hiding her scars under long sleeved jumpers
Smiling false smiles and telling lies to cover up for her wounds
The cuts may heal over but her emotional wounds are raw and never far from the surface
No matter how hard she tries they do not fade away
Marks on her arms and legs remind her of her suffering
They remind her how fragile she is
Like a porcelain doll so easy to break
She is fed up with playing this game
Fed up of looking in the mirror and hating what she sees
Feeling like she is letting every one down
A failure, a disgrace
She tries to break the pattern, strike out once in a while
It doesn’t work and soon she is falling apart all over again
She wants so much to be loved, to be held, to be appreciated
She tries so hard to be liked that she ends up pushing people away
Her clingy personality has people diving for cover, quickly backing away leaving her alone once more
Can they not see that she is lonely?
All she wants is to feel wanted, needed and most of all loved
Afraid of life
Afraid of being left alone to die
Afraid to look to the future as the present is so painful
So hard to live day to day
Goals and targets always fail to be achieved
She throws her passion into lost causes
Help others if she cannot help herself
Immerse herself in another’s pain for a while so she cannot feel her own suffering
To take her mind off of her reality
Even this notion falls apart leaving her feeling empty and lost
Like a small child so innocent, so sensitive, so pure
Crying herself to sleep at night
Too weak to pull herself up
Too shattered, battered and bruised
A casualty of the war she has nominated herself to fight
She finds herself going round and round in circles
She replays the same story over and over again
Looking, searching for that happy ending
Something to make her life have a purpose
Something to bring a smile to her face
Sadly so far all her stories have reached the same sad conclusion
They have all run into a dead end
She has failed in her quest so many times that she has stopped counting
Each new victim in her real life play has ended up walking if not running away
Often without a good bye or thank you
All she wants is acknowledgement for her efforts
To feel that her efforts and time were not in vain
Like a game of chess she is the one always left boxed in with no escape
No where to run, no where to hide
Her emotions on show for the whole world to see
Laid out like an open book
She struggles on as best she can hiding her pain under a mask of pleasant conversation and a smiling face
When it all gets too much her body takes another battering
Like turning a tap on it lets her emotions run free
When the tap is turned off darkness falls over her life once again and like on a board game she is swiftly sent back to the start
To be submerged in pain all over again