i havent had time for organized thoughts

makeup stained her face.
she didn't think she'd come back to this place;
where an open door is an open grave.
not a land of the free or home of the brave.
school was wrong.
the things she learned she never used.
it only lead her to be more confused.
to use her head and not her heart,
like she's done from the start.
she fell apart.
but she rings the doorbell..
regardless of her fears
and under piers
she burries her tears.
they'll be safe there,
unaware.
the man on the other side of the door
has no intentions of hurting her anymore.
he's punished himself, and reconciled,
and put too much hope in a reply.
how can you fix what's missing parts?
"make due with what you have," is a good place to start