Dense Inside Passions / Words, Threads and Burns

Because writing a semi-poem inspired by two lines from a song called Marooned by an obscure band called The Gathering when you're supposed to be studying is pretty awesome.

With stars in her eyes,
She looked up at the world - 
Could not see through the lies,
She was just a young girl.

Loved everyone she knew
And everyone "loved" her too, except
The ones who were truly 
Wise - didn't want her to accept

The world, or what she disliked of it -
She knew she would like to fit in - 
But how?
With everyone around,
her astounding dreams, smiles and frowns
were run down to the ground.

With tears in her eyes,
With fears in her eyes,
She listened, she heard,
She spoke not a word.
It didn't matter, there was no one to hear her.
It didn't matter, there was no one to fear her.

Fear her? Of course they couldn't fear her,
First she had to free herself,
So they could see her
Then she had to leave her world behind - 
Not a word, no smile should endear her - 
Her world had to repeal her!
That's the only way she could
Reveal herself - 
But she didn't want to 
Deal with this mess
The heated aggression
The beaten distress
And she hated herself.

Reeling with anger
And dealing with stress
And feeling the cares of the world,
She settled for less.
But seeing is believing - 
And a seething revelation
Of her heart that was healing,
Shown to the world by her pen, by her friends,
Scoured her dense inside passions with a lens
And that was the end!

Shaken up, awaken,
Semi-disgraced, her heart was racing.

With a smile on her face, 
She analyzed the interlacing web of words, threads and burns
That she left with her paper and her pen,
Tapered to an end that would pierce her soul,
And everyone's around her.

Didn't that astound her?
She couldn't even see everyone who'd surround her
But her words found them, and bound them.

Obtaining permission?
She thought with derision
Of her thoughts in the past.
A vision of perfection,
A painted reflection.
Now she was tainted, with the ink from her pen,
And she would never need permission, never again!
Her vision of perfection - 
a little disrespectful,
a little irreverent - 
Not painted anymore
And if it was tainted with truth,
That's because she liked it that way.

With fire in her eyes,
And her soul burning inside,
And with no desire to
Stop her world turning
Upside-down, she wrote.
She wrote with a passion - 
Not for the fashion of the times,
Nor for the passing glances of people who
Would now fear her if they could see her,
But for herself.
For the fire inside that didn't have any way to get out
But her pen.
Her friend.
It was also her worst enemy - 
But in the end, it didn't matter,
She had what she wanted -
She was heard! It was daunting
And she told no lies
And for the first time,
She had a smile in her eyes,