Sleep was rare
The nights long
The nights terrifying
The nights spent
Twisting and turning
In her creaking mattress
She got used to
Awaking in the morning
With the familiar sensation
Of salty tears
Moistening her lips
And the sticky tears
Wetting
Her thick, white sheets
With stains
That she knew
Were more
Than just tears
They were scars
Of her maddening pain
Seizing her everyday
It drove her insane
And she sat under the bed
Her knees pulled to her chest
Silently crying
And begging for it to stop
The flashbacks
They haunted her
Every single time
She remembered
Her shoulders
Being rammed
Into the wall
Slammed down
Onto the floor
The fingers pinching
Her tender skin
The laughter
Of the cold voices
Filled her head
The wounds
Inflicted
Deeper than flesh
She remembered
The familiar cackles
Of the ones who broke her
The long, sharp fingernails
Digging into her skin
Dragging her
Away, away
For another hour
Of tortures
In the girls bathroom
She'd screamed at them
Angry, enraged
And then
She realized
She was alone
She was vulnerable
That no one would come
She remembered
Her body being shoved
Against the lockers
And sobbing quietly
Into the ground
Her hands limp
Helplessly
Sprawled
Across the ground
YOU ARE READING
The Girl
PoetryShe was beautiful. She was happy. She was a bright prism of colors. She was a sizzling firework of surprises. She lit up everything she walked past, with her bright, dimpled smile. They thought she was perfect. Until her world came cra...
