Broken Bottles and Guitar Picks

Sprawling on the cold harsh floor Surrounded by broken glass Covered in cuts and bruises Weeping silently Wishing for someone Something To come save me He stands over me  Staring down at me with scorn He grabs my hair And drags me through the house My knees knock painfully together  And on the floor, as he drags me upstairs I wish for death Fearful for my life I clutch a bottle  I tried smashing it over his head  I miss He turns around He stares at me  With unholy fire in his eyes Blood fills my mouth I beg for his forgiveness He grabs my gown And rips it off He pins me down I scream  He strikes me  I go still I beg for death to take me away I hear the sweet sound of a guitar  I'm surrounded by broken bottles and guitar picks Make it stop Someone, please save me I go on throughout my life  Donning a smile Covering the cuts and bruises With long sleeves and excuses I walk through the halls Kids point and stare I shrink deeper into my hoodie I sit alone Wanting to never leave I have a house, not a home Not anymore Lies have become the second nature to me "I'm fine" When I'm actually hurting "It was an accident" When it was a deliberate punishment  "I don't know" When the answer is actually,  "Yes and please save me" I pull my turtleneck higher To cover the bruises I would give anything To be able to wear short sleeves But the bruises would invoke worry And I would be punished  I feel caged in Like there's no escape I'm surrounded by broken bottles and guitar picks 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741