We Write for Fear of Silence

Voices Unheard

Sitting alone, the empty room echoes
with the thoughts
of this girl-not-girl, crying.
sadness sweeps over her in an agonizing wave.
she hunches over, wishing for something, anything, to divert
the pain.
her heart cries bloody tears, a thousand pinholes
drip crimson and
lungs collapse in onto themselves, breaths quickening;
becoming shallow.

The broken body staggers from the chair and
a metalic snake sltihers into this girl-not-girls grasp.
she clutches the gleaming silver and
waits for the red as
it drips to the floor, sick splatter paint.

A door creaks on rusty hinges as
a startled cry resonates.
one hand grabs one wrist,
twisting it so that the glaring spotlights on the ceiling
can shine
on the pain of this girl-not-girl,
with a secret that has just been stolen from her.
ripped from her unwilling fingers and exposed,
so that the world's cold, harsh gaze may fall upon it.

Hands grasp at air, and
tears crawl down a face.
anger clouds a mind.

This girl-not-girl:
A glass pane,
carted off in a roaring machine-
shatters.
And blood seeps through the cracks.
why not tear up this withered body?
leave it to rot?
let it descend into the darkness of the underground;
slicing fingers and toes on shards as it falls
and the earthworms pluck it apart
bit by bit.

Bit by bit