She’s a young girl.

Soft pale skin, cold worn emerald green eyes,

She’s a misfit.

Alone she sits,

Fists clenched.

Teeth grinding.

Tears forming pools wallowing in her eyes,

She struggles holding still her aching heart.

She’s trapped.

Locked in between 4 walls and desperation,

A black veil of darkness clouds her thoughts,

 And poisons her mind.

What can a girl do alone in a world so cold?

With paper as her shield

And pen as her weapon

The words pour out in rapid floods.

Sadness and anger no longer her prisoner,

She sprawls them out on paper.

Huddled together on the page,

as helpless and exposed as her.