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She looks in the mirror, what does she see?
Red, blotchy eyes with tears streaming freely.
Her hair is down, overall a big mess.
but In all honesty, she could care less.
A tissue against her nose to stop the blood.
The gore is gushing like rain in a flood.
The blood dries and she tries to fix her lip,
which was busted open by a lone fingertip.
In her head she asks herself, "Why me?"
"What have I done this time daddy?"
She cleans herself up and heads to bed,
her dad seems to hate her, she'd be better off dead.
She knew this event was not unexpected,
her hope for a better life had just been rejected.
She cries for a few hours, her life isn't fair.
Then she finally falls asleep, on the brink of despair.
The next morning she awakes from an annoying ring.
She shuts off her alarm clock to hear the birds sing.
She dresses, careful not to let her weakness show.
No one at school will ever be allowed to know.
She looks in the mirror, what does she see?
I see me.
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Posted by beautifullybroken333 on 2008-04-21 16:43:57 | Rating: | Views: 53
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it is not weakness to love. it is authentic to hurt when love is taken away. you are exquisite, and if i met the person who hurt you like this, i would pound him into the ground with my fist on his empty head.
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Posted by AllThingsBuck
on 2008-05-08 15:54:22
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