out of the corner of my eye,
a slight hint of her.
her life is but a timid sigh,
a constant reminder.
some days she weighs quite heavily,
this damaged little child.
she follows from a distance,
wounded, meek and mild.
she watches me from her dark world
of cold unyielding rain,
a place where promises aren’t real.
instead they just bring pain.
she lives in dark confusion.
what did she do so wrong?
in longing desperation
she seeks only to belong
the guilt of all she is that’s bad
weighs a sickening ton.
the beatings seem to last so long,
but then at least it’s done.
she knows she is the one to blame.
if only she knew why.
some days she just can’t bear the shame,
but she’s afraid to cry.
she thinks there is another world
at times she’s dared dream of.
where she isn’t just an ugly girl
unworthy of even her mother’s love.
she longs to fix what’s wrong with her;
she searches in the mirror.
i look up from my reflection
determined to always hear her.