Just a young girl, about thirteen,
sitting in the tall grass, golden green.
Looking at the road,
watching the cars go by,
wondering if I timed it right
would I die?
Nineteen years old with two jobs.
The year my last innocence was robbed.
Staring at the stairs.
Would I live if I fell?
If I did it on purpose
could somebody tell?
Twenty-one, the pain and nightmares kept me awake.
He gave me sleeping pills to take.
Entrancing, bright blue capsules.
I decided to take more.
I hoped to slip away unnoticed
but he can't be stopped by a mere door.
The time came to own up at twenty-four.
Neither of us could take it anymore.
Covered in scars
I stepped forward to transform.
It took many tries
but I found my norm.
Twenty-six and it's still a fight.
Each day it's easy to lose sight.
But if you reach out for help,
if you put the effort in,
someday you will find yourself
comfortable in your own skin.