but I'm the eldest daughter,

so it's You're On Your Own, Kid.

My tears fall fast,

but at least I'm trying

to let it go.

Ivy vines clutch my heart desirously.

It's getting hard to breathe

without you, but I know this feeling all too well.

"I'm a real tough kid," I chant,

but what happens when cracks form?

Will I emerge from an easter egg

or crumble from their grasp?

Will they bite from my skin like wolves

or get under it like foxes?

And of course,

there's the showgirl.

Will she perform for the masses

with a heart aching so,

or only for the one close to her,

where she won't have to fake it

because they're the 1

who'll finally ruin the friendship,

and perhaps she isn't on her own after all.