Why on earth did you
Give the highest lockers to
Two of the short girls

It happened to me.

Statistics.
That is me now.
I scream and I cry
Into the depths of my pillow.

I had not been wearing something that showed me.
I screamed and thrashed.
I am now a
Statistic.*

Help me.
Rid me of the memories
That play across my eyelids
Whenever my eyes close.

I regret every second
Of that tortured night.
And just when I thought it stopped
and the pain was gone
The real pain
Hadn't even started.

i never knew silence that much
until that very afternoon
when i tried so much
to hold my teardrops
and hide the sobs
that were exploding inside
my weary body
and my wrecked soul

i wonder,
if i was found dead that day,
would they think 'twas suicide
or would the police say,
"she was slain by the silence
that was enclasped within her solitude"?

cold as the ocean
she flows like rain
down the street
to the water again

devoid of colour
she splashes and cries
under the lamps
with no light in her eyes

crackling like thunder
she sits by the river
toes in the water
and cobble beneath her

grey as the clouds  
her salty tears shine
she loses control
to the storm of her mind