She cried herself to sleep, whispers the tear stained pillows.
Dad had come home again, cried the belt from the bed.
The floorboards sent warnings as they creaked.
The steps led to her room.
The bandages and bloodied razor by the bathroom sink were her silent pleads for help.
The bruises on her delicate face had spoken a foreign language to her friends, confusing them.
She never told them where they'd came from.
Her bright smile hid the fear behind her eyes.
You could see it if you looked close enough.
Her eyes screamed wild with fear when she heard the door shut.
The door sent another warning.
He was home.
The tardy pass from school the next day sent apologies to the teachers.
They didn't care to ask why she was late.
The bag packed in her closet had smiled in hope when she looked up at it.
The window creaked. The wind howled with pleas to escape.
She flew.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of life
PoetryThese are some poems I wrote at 1am out of boredom. Most of which are sad or depressing, but they're filled with meaning. If you understand these poems because of personal experience, I'm sorry you do.
