when i was fifteen i was a lion-hearted girl
with strong bones and love for myself that crossed seas
i carried myself with sunshine and a smile too big
played melodies on the piano and loved people too much

when i was fifteen i was an ashtray
my warmth was used for kindling and my love to put out fires
my skin started turning black and my heart breaking into pieces
i was still wild-eyed and good

when i was fifteen i was a punching bag
fists touched my ribs most days and fingernails scraped away
chipping at my exterior and tearing my seams to bits
i became cold and unbearing and ruthless, with teeth like a tiger

when i was fifteen i became nothing
buried into soil and left not to grow but to be scavenged
bones broken and unmended, parched lips and stony feet
underground, beaten and crying, dead

*(a.m.c.)