She says
the pain won't leave,
no books,
no tv
can soak up these feelings inside.
She wants to hide.
She can't get dressed, or go to work.
She wants to die
outside
like she has inside.
She has cried
for so many years.
She cuts
herself
and cries when others won't
put gauze
in her wounds
and wind them up
so she can
rip them off
and hurt herself
again
and again.
She pretends
that she doesn't want
what every girl wants.
To have someone
at her right hand
and a baby
on her hip.
To complain about
how little sleep
she gets
and brag about
how fast
they can run.
To have someone
look at her
like she's worth
going
to work for.
She pretends
she's happy
to just have fun.
She's wondering
when
her purpose has begun.
It's been so many years.
She's still here.
Nothing
has changed.
No break
in the rain.
When is it her turn
to grow?
