My Shitty Teen Angst Poetry

Through the Window

Little girl why do you cry?

Why do you ask? Do you ask why the desert is dry?

That's how it is. That's how it's been and always will be.

But what is the reason little girl? When did your river of tears begin to flow?

Since the beginning and till the end. For many reasons. For all the secrets I never wanted to know.

Secrets? Little girl what do you hide?

Many things but they're simply feelings trapped inside.

Feelings? What feelings do you harbor little girl? What makes your heart ache?

Many feelings. Many, many. All from what they do.

Who little girl? Who? Who wrongs you?

No one. No one. We are perfect, perfect just like you see.

Little girl, what are you not telling me?

It is nothing Mr. Stranger. Nothing indeed.

Goodbye Mr. Stranger. My truth is not what you need.

Goodbye little girl and goodbye to what's hidden.

I know now that the truth is forbidden.

I'll continue to only stare through the window at seeming perfection.

Following the path of this little girl's misdirection.

Yes, goodbye Mr. Stranger. Do not come back.

I wish not to share all that we lack.

Wish not to share about the "good" father that does not exist.

He doesn't go to work. He gets drunk and, to my mother, raises a fist.

Wish not to share that Mother sells her body to pay our debts and bills.

Wish not to share about my sister who is hooked on Novocaine and Vicodin pills.

Wish not to share news of my brother who's always too high to care.

Wish not and will never dare.

For I am broken as well. A broken child in a broken home.

Lock myself in my room for days. Always completely alone.

And paint pretty pictures with blood on my arm.

All in different ways, every family member doing harm.

To themselves, to each other, or all of the above.

A broken family. Broken, broken, broken. A broken family with no love.

But through the window we're a perfect family.

Perfect, perfect, perfect. Perfect as can be.

A caring father goes to work and pays off everything.

A loving mother smiles. Watch her cook. Watch her clean. Hear her sing.

The big brother protects his naive sisters from bad people on the street.

The big sister is kind to everyone she will meet.

And me, the youngest of them all.

Perfect girl.

Pretty girl.

Freckled girl.

Innocent girl.

Little girl.

Just a broken girl.

Hidden away inside the shell of a perfect doll. A perfect girl.

Perfect little girl through the window.

Perfect little girl through the window with her perfect little family.

Through the window. Through the window.

It's all so perfect, through the window.