Victim

i see a tale rarely told

of the one whose life dips into tense silence

at such an early age so that the tension seems

loving and warm so that the calm before the

storm is a familiar place to visit a soft bed

on a hard day

of the one whose tears fall before their head

hits the pillow so that they’ve torn down their

face before they lie in stained comfort when

you lie down but can never find the right position

and that’s okay

of the one whose eyes seem empty of the light

we humans crave so depraved for the warmth of

a hand that only touches in affection who smiles

in true pleasure or even affectation

they are lied down in bed with a kiss on their forehead

but the soft lips are of the one behind the tears they shed

i’d let them know they hearts can grow they smile

can be mirrored even though mirrors reflect them

harshly to see

one day they could be among the stars

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