A/N: This one's about how society will lie and gossip about her and shun her from their society, while all the while refusing to admit that her whole miserable life is their fault. It starts in 1st person from Ilse's POV, and when it switches to 2nd person, the "you" is society, or the adults in SA. Enjoy! =D

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Spring Awakening. All that belongs to Sater and Sheik and Wedekind and its other loverly creators.

Build me up

Break me down



Let me live as exactly what you would never ask for

Poke my bruises

Twist your fingernails, your knives and

your pains through my wounds

and watch the blood there puddle

Like a river

As if mine was ever so different from yours.

Do you remember that little girl

the one with the hair like a wildfire, the

One who danced on the street




Do you remember her skin

the purple under her eye

the skin with the blood crusted around the edges of those cuts that you denied

You watched the man rage

You heard him scream and hit

And you waited for someone else to help her

While your own lips remained stitched shut even though the words

scratched at the hollow walls of your head and branded themselves there




That's how your paper-white



unforgiving society works.

She walks your roads

Kisses your misfit with absinthe on her breath

Paint dried and caked on her breast, and

you whisper the lies to your children about

Ilse –

and as the months pass

you watch the children


The misfit failed.

The girl loved.

The boy left,

and you sit

and you wait for the next time her hair sparks like candle flame over this place

to come and find their ashes under her tracks




a person truly damaged, but never lucky enough to drown

singing with fissures along her throat

dancing with blisters on her heels



Stolen, even

Taken and robbed inside

by father and artist and

Lost every single time.

The veins around her heart pulse

thump thump

out, in

Wonder, do you know that her heart beats, heart pumps

a life out someone else's lacerations to bleed someone else's pain

because she is

a survivor?

Survivor of the hell you hand your children here

The heat,

thunder raging

rain bleeding through the fractures of a discolored sky yearning for summer

Shredding the petals of flowers barely blooming

Thrust them into the wanting of the spring and thank your god the tempest ruined them before they ruined you

And yet she lives

her bone not yet beaten quite hard enough to murder her

You see

and watch

and peer through the raindrops at her prayer

Her song, her hunger

Her own fire that is still alive

Her life white and worthless like butterfly wing bleached blank by the inability to fly

You watch her cry

And though your gossip slips through tame, articulate lips and wraps the lies around your own tongue,

Still you shadow the eyes of your heart and always deny that you were the one

who broke her.

Thanks so much for reading! And if you have any thoughts, please review! They really do brighten up my day. =D So... toodeloo!