when i was seven i lost my first pet.
we buried her in the backyard in an old shoe box.
i cried as my family held my hand and so many years later it still tears me apart
                              but years went by and i looked out the window at that odd spot in the grass and my insides twisted
my throat would go hoarse before i even began crying
and life went on without me.
                              years, so many years later
and the place where she was buried is the most beautiful area in the yard.
                              it's cradled by weeds and stones 
held up by soil and seeds
the grass has grown toward the sky above her
and it's so beautiful.
                              a small fir tree sits in front
and it is lush all around in a never ending cycle
the deep green spreads over the rocks and her tombstone that was once oh so visible is now covered completely in flora
the tombstone that is but a rock with a beach scene painted upon it.
                              and now we're moving and we can't take her with us
and so people will come into that house and move in
they will have kids and their kids will have kids of their own
never knowing the history of the place
blissfully unaware of what occurred there
so oblivious of the pain that was buried in the backyard
in an attempt to bury the feelings and memories
though it did not work.
                              the screaming that filled that broken home
the abuse and the manipulations
the pain and the bruises and darkness
and grey clouds and no silver linings
                              they will bring sunlight
to this damp summer storm
and maybe with a new family
these flowers will sprout wings
and finally
finally this lot will be put to rest
                              and maybe
just maybe
that house could truly be a happy home
                              and maybe
just maybe
the sun will rise again
after endless moons
                              it's a haunted place, they say
the ghost of a girl who was abused by her mother
roams the hallways
wailing and moaning
not wanting for revenge or to harm
only for someone to prove her innocence
only someone to prove her mother's guilt
                              because the police never believed
and the court only believed the lies
                              so maybe if you can put this home to rest
you will have a good long life
maybe if you can remove the clouds and cobwebs and bloodstains from these sheets
then maybe
just maybe
the sunlight will finally shine
upon this broken home
                              because the cracks in the ceilings don't look like damage
they look like the cuts on my wrists and shoulders
they look like the slice of a blade
right before the skin splits open and spills red
                              so maybe
just maybe
if you can fill this home with happiness
                              for if you can fill my old house with light
maybe, just maybe
my spirit will be put to rest
                              and maybe, just maybe
i will finally know what it's like
to live a good life
                              maybe i will finally know
that i did not deserve any of this
                              maybe i will finally believe that lie
i've told for thirteen years
                              maybe the need for revenge
is better
than the need for happiness
                              but it is not revenge, it is justice.
                                      
                                          
                                   
                                              
                                           
                                               
                                                  