She is not delicate,
Nor is she a coward.
But she thinks she is.
She is strong,
Like she is brave.
But she does not see it.
Upon examining her own reflection,
All she notices is a scarred body
That she believes no one could ever love.
So she hides the emotions she deems worthless
And with every tiring step she takes,
Along drags her burdensome beatings,
Weighing down on her every move.
Even when she ventures out,
Away from the evil that tends to follow her
Like a permanent shadow,
It finds her,
It seizes her,
It punishes her.
She's led a life of unbearable pain,
One which no innocent girl should ever have to endure,
Staying a closed book all the while,
Spending her days alone,
Speaking only when no one is around
To hear her weeping,
Come nightfall.
Yet one day she finally opens up
And is met with a torturous silence.
***
This is very much real. The person whose life this is based on has asked me to write a story about her hardships. I fear I would be unable to do it justice, as she is the most inspirational woman I have the honour of knowing. She is my role model.
Perhaps in the future.
1/8/2018
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Over Prose
PoetryI've never been artistic. I've never really liked poetry. So basically, I'm gonna add shit when I'm sleep-deprived and not thinking straight. NOTE: One shitty poem USED TO BE posted every day! Highest ranking: #67 in Poetry (8/17/2017) *** Cover pho...
