Phoenix

Those books upon that shelf contain the poetry that I wrote myself 

Not only for you but for me too 

For me to see that maybe 

Just maybe 

I can be that phoenix that rises from the ashes

Instead of being that girl who lies about the scars on her arms 

Instead of being that girl who is silently begging for help 

She desperately needs someone to see that she may not talk much but she has walked a mile in those shoes you've so graciously looked over 

She's trying to begin again 

She's becoming that Phoenix that had to die first before becoming beautiful 

She's beautiful and at peace