And yet suddenly everything was
Different. That's what they called me.
Teasing names and shoves in the halls
and aren't you just a backstabbing
Witch. That's what the town would
scream and cry and pull me apart
until I felt like I was being torn into
Heads. The body count rose
as they burned my only friends
at the stakes. Is there really a
God, who could save us from this
poisoned place and these poisoned people,
blind to the reality that we are just
Lethal. I am not lethal. I am
Inhuman. I am not inhuman. I am
Alone. I do not want to be alone. I am
Afraid. I do not want to be afraid.
They place a mirror in front of the stakes
to reflect the evil back inside me as I burn.
I look at myself in the glass,
bloodstained skin and ropes constraining my body.
The flames rise around me like arms reaching up from hell,
and suddenly all I can see is a
Monster.
-M.M.
YOU ARE READING
11:11
PoetryA collection of poetry about life through young eyes. Because sometimes you just have to cross your fingers, close your eyes, and make a wish. --- "11:11" is Megan McMahon's first completed poetry collection containing 36 pieces. Take a trip into he...
