No Response

Pushes and punches, teases and screams
No one ever wanted to listen.
No one ever wanted to really see.

She gripped it- cold and silver.

Sharp, stinging to the touch.

Salt water heavily streams down her rosy cheeks.
She made a slash, then two, doubling to four.
Up, down, left, right.

Light-headed, her irises danced.
Her rosy cheeks transformed to white
Her white wrists, transforming to rose.

There was a thud to the floor,
then a small knock from the other side of the wood.
"Are you okay in there?"
No response.
There was a twist of the knob, the tug of the handle.
No response.
The banging continues, almost aggressive.
No response.

Where was everyone before this happened?
That's right: no response.

This poem is about: 
My community
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

whoisthemonster

So very sad. Such a reality for many :( Thanks for this poem, and all of its honesty.

Need to talk?

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