This girl I knew once,
She said it started with a close friend
someone she thought she could trust.
She was young and naïve
everything had become black and dark
the space around her kept getting smaller;
She was trapped; she knocked
Banging and banging,
trying to find her way through
this darkness she keeps fighting.
No. she repeats
She refuses to let this control her life
but yet, it was her he left vulnerable
written all over.
She had a mark she couldn’t erase.
The boy that night took what wasn’t his
and it was her who deserved it.
That’s what she heard.
Everyone said, everyone assured her
It’s over, its fine, and maybe you shouldn’t have let him do it
as if it was a choice she controlled.
And maybe it was, she thought.
With more of society screaming at her
with more of the enemy grabbing and pulling,
of being more of just “who they are”
There wasn’t air, there was no warmth.
Yet it was all a big secret for the fear of being more blamed for something she already thought she caused.
It was something she was never getting back, she knew.
It was all hidden deeply stuck in the cracks of her skin
and eventually she lost herself in the heaps of words they said
drenched in dark black, hair to her knees
to hide her face,
curled up into nothing, no one will find her.
No one will even know they should look
No one will even try.
And that’s okay she thought
because deep inside she asks herself
“What does it matter that people help me?”
“What does it matter that a dumb, used up girl lives amongst all these perfect people?”
So that was it, the time
the day her parents, the ones who helped leave marks on their own daughter
finally came to notice her
but only noticed the corpse seeping liquid into the water and the little capsules of “help” scattered to the floor.
It was a “shame.”
Her friends, the ones who blamed her
the peoples who “loved her,” the ones who never noticed.
They came to see her perfect body locked up, ready to be brought down.
They said they cared
They said her story was a tragedy --
A girl sunk down by her past
but only a tragedy they couldn’t imagine
and if only
if only someone could’ve stopped her before she wasted her precious youth
And now I ask you
I beg of you to answer
but not to me
to the person you ignore
to the person you don’t notice
What will you say?