A Lost Child


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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