Dust
She was found at the age of 16, meerly dust on the ground.Her family had left her with her own thoughtsand It broke her down. The erasure was something she as unable to handleShe opened her self up,yet still felt under cover.
With every scar on her body,specks of herself left her. Her arms now held tally marks,of every time her family told her she should marry a rich boy,asked her what boy she would be taking to prom. Over and over, they made the decision for her.
Now soon to be leaving, she would make this decision by herself.She would be happy with who she wanted,as someone she wanted to beWith no filter of her familyto hide behind.
With every scar on her body,specks of herself left her. Her arms now held tally marks,of every time her family told her she should marry a rich boy,asked her what boy she would be taking to prom. Over and over, they made the decision for her.
Now soon to be leaving, she would make this decision by herself.She would be happy with who she wanted,as someone she wanted to beWith no filter of her familyto hide behind.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.