The Real Monster

My Life.

Nine years old

She sits alone

She hides her face

From the world.

She doesn’t want the world

To see her scars.

She knows he’s behind bars.

But it doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters when

You’re forced to keep your mouth shut

Eyes open

Feet planted

As you take the blows of

The punishments you thought you knew

You thought you deserved.

But what did she deserve

From the words he screamed

To her.

She cried

As she pulled down her sleeves

To hide the bruises and scars

Of the days

When she wasn’t good enough.

She begs her mom

To let go of the man

She thought she knew

The man who cried I love you

When you left me.

How can you stay with the man?

The monster

That brings tears to our eyes

Who makes us?

Pull our sleeves down

To hide the bruises and scars

For when WE weren’t good enough.

What will have to be done
will she have to pack her bags?

And leave?

Its not like you would notice.

You’d slip my absence under the rugs

Of needles and powder

That consumed you for

HOURS of my childhood.

But I stay

She stays

Anyways

She stands tall

Hiding from them all

To trick the teachers

To fool her friends into thinking

She is good enough…

Sixteen years old.

She walks alone.

She knows he’s been set free,

But she still hides those bruises and scars,

For SHE was never good enough for

The monster she saw

Which she always found

 Looking

Into a mirror

With a broken reflection

Of the real monster.