i don't want to spoil the party so i'll go

Everyone knows a sad girl. The story has been told a thousand times.

It gets old, hearing the same cries that so willingly escape the minds of these desolate wastelands that are called the "sad girls".

Here is a new story about a sad girl with the same old story as the other ones: Abused in every way as a child, abused as an adult, and left abusing herself.

The only solace she finds is in a bottle, the arms of a person she has just met. She finds her solace in the deep confindes of her broken mind - reveling in the pity attatched to the stigma of being sad.

It is all paint by numbers for her, go to the appointments, take the pills, smile and nod your head. Fooling them all, saying she wants help. That these steps being took are more than just motions to please those who need be pleased.

Ironic how she begs on her scarred knees though has no true interest in being saved. Albeit, she would never admit this game to the folk that love her. That would mean not only her mind, body, and soul are out there for the taking, so is her life.

_