She’s singing lines of a song,
She wishes she’d forget,
As she rips heads off his dollar store gifts.
Her ringtone is drowned out,
By the screaming chorus she keeps replaying.
The loss of breath,
Never comes close to the monster in her chest.
It plasters the walls of her rib cage,
With its angry thrashing because of a boy.
The body’s collapse,
Just makes her tears fall faster.
This poor child is facing defeat,
Too self-righteous to tell anyone,
A boy hurt her.
The girl punishes herself,
Thinking of what he’s doing,
Who he’s with,
Where they are,
If he’ll cause her the same pain.
The battered beauty stays on the floor,
Forcing down the vomit she’d spew.
Blaming herself for his rage,
Instead of believing in his demons.
“I was too demanding.”
“I’m not good enough.”
“I deserved it.”
The make-up blocks the bruises,
And the Vladimir covers up the flashbacks.
No one ever sees,
How a stupid boy’s sins,
Become a scared girl’s cross to bear.
Finally passing out,
Her day’s over.
He breaks the lock to get in,
She wakes up,
Her foggy eyes shift,
To his graceless shuffle.
“I’m sorry.”