A girl called Luna wished someone found her sooner.
Out in the forest, a rope as her tether.
Whatever. She didn't care.
She wondered what they'd think once they found her there.
She left a sign, "no need to stare",
Something hidden, nothing to share.
Her parents met, shagged, got pregnant,
Shacked up, split up, the ****** slipped up.
She grew up in a broken home, alone,
Only a picture of her dad to show.
Wasn't loved, didn't need it.
Found with desire it was easier to hide it.
Loss of control led to fear at home.
So she managed her food.
She didn't grow, stayed 5ft 4.
But eating wasn't enough, she needed more.
She can't recall how the blade first met her skin.
Now withdrawl's the symptoms of keeping it in.
"What's that?", "Just a scratch (that grazed her bone)".
"Long sleeves?", "For the cold (that chilled her thoughts)".
Only 14, what a dream snatched away.
A boy came along, took her innocent days.
He was an ambiguous malaise
But was something solid amongst the waves.
Still people leave, like him on the slightest breeze.
Her arms filled with scabs like the bark on the trees.
Her stomach felt full so she got on two knees
And purged it.
Her mum clocked, urged it to stop.
Luna wouldn't listen, her guard wouldn't drop.
It became about the next hit, the next drink,
The next guy to sleep with.
Dreaming feelings, keeping a furious pace,
That way she didn't have to face the night.
She eventually hit the wall,
Broke down, tears and all.
Looked up through her window at the silver moonlight.
Had a moment of solemn revelation,
She'd been committed to self-condemnation.
She didn't want to anymore,
But the only exit seemed the next life's door.
She made an oath, to herself,
By next week she'd end her life.
That's how she got here.
If only a friend, a boy, a parent had not remained silent.
Nothing could've harmed more than the ubiquitous hush. Her mind rushed.
Walking to the woods, she heard birdsong.
Wouldn't be long.
Her survival instinct fought in a riot.
Now all she heard was eternal quiet.
A (semi-)fictional story