She screams at the walls closing in
As she hits them fiercely with her fist.
She pulls her hair hoping to feel again
Suicidal thoughts have taken a twist.
Her stomach is covered in bruises
From her care takers resented love.
As she looks at the barred windows
Wishing she can fly away like a dove.
She has blood stained on her legs
Her innocence stolen from her grasp.
She curls up against the walls corner
Waiting for the pain to finally pass.
Her delegate ears hear the thunder
The silent rain falling on the pane.
As she rises from her dazed state
The voices are driving her insane.
Fifteen and a prisoner in her home
She carves ‘I'm not a toy’ on her wrist.
They're killing her for their enjoyment
The experience is anything but bliss.
With a knife to dull to take her life
Her wounds are open for display.
Living in a house filled with sickness
Living on faith once again she prays.
“Dear Lord, help me please
I beg you take me home
I can't call for help, my voice taken
My mouth's stitched shut. I feel so alone.”
