A Lost Child

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I felt society's idea of "normal" slipping through my fingers

Like a handful of sand. 

"The way God made me" drifted away like feathers. 

 

I prayed to Him at night,

Begging to be more like Hanna across the street. 

Hanna's hair was blonde and her eyes were blue,

She was boy-crazy and I wanted to be, too.

 

My friends gossiped about boys,

And I pretended to be interested. 

I only cared about pretty girls

And I was lost.

 

I turned to pills to dull my thoughts,

But only sharpened my blades.

To numb the pain in my heart

I drew blood from my wrists.

 

But no one will ever care about

What slowly destroys

A lost child.

 

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