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				I know it's not appetizing but I don't have a title to this poem :P - 
            
          
		
		
				
		
				June 12th 2013, 11:34 AM
			
			
			
		 
               
 
They walk on eggshells with caution, beware
 one sudden move
 they'll scare her for good
 they study her like a map
 to avoid surprise attacks
 one trigger, she'll snap
 already broken
 already cracked
 she's sensitive to everything.
 
 A glance at her reflection
 from a window in her room
 fingers ease into place
 running through
 every direction
 touching scars
 along her face
 examining the marks
 on her cheeks, from up close
 seeing the permanent holes
 from when she lost control
 feeling trapped in her skin
 tortured by damage she's done
 
 They tried to fix her
 they tried to repair
 convince her to change
 her stubborn heart
 make her brave, make her smart
 mend the shattered shards
 have the courage, have the will
 to continue still, when
 times are hard
 but she resists and insists
 "I don't deserve this"
 the scars forever remain
 it's only her to blame.
 
 They don't stay with her
 they have their own life
 she's slowing them down
 causing them to lag behind
 places to go, people to meet
 they say a prayer
 and leave
 they don't see her bleed
 she covers it, long jeans
 she speaks the language
 words cannot express
 she started when she was four
 it's what she knows best.
 
 Walking in the storm
 shoulders slumped ,back aching
 kicking pebbles
 mind racing
 pacing
 uneasiness grips chest
 sharp painful breathes
 rushing speed
 though legs beg to rest
 pulse thumps
 pressure rises
 crossing streets on
 red lights
 not stopping
 urges pounding fiercely
 demanding action
 starting to panic.
 
 Just then she reaches the site
 sits under tree
 she comes here to cry
 without being seen
 she tastes what it's like
 to be free
 even temporarily
 it's enough to know
 where she wants to be
 and where she should go
 she sinks
 in worry and emotions
 thinking
 perpetuating the vicious cycle
 
 They find her alone
 the park gates are closing
 they call her name,
 an absent reply
 "coming"
 her voice
 muffled and distant
 mind hard at work
 full of noise
 chaos inside
 weighing her options
 to give up
 or keep fighting
 ----------------
 I wrote this yesterday.
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