bruised knees and bandaids
your mom is no longer your best friend, she'll scream words that burn your ears
she won't read you fairy tales before you fall asleep at night
CD's and ballet
school buses, new folders and the boy next door named Tyler
he'll want you for your body, he'll spread rumors throughout the school
you'll only want it to go away
girls you share laughter with and teachers you idolize
everything becomes different
the only thing you'll share with those girls is a pack of cigarettes and the stories you hear in the hallway
gummy bears and juice boxes have turned into prescription medicine and shots of *****
just wishing for one good day
your special blankie and your favorite hair bow
hidden in a closet behind the new skirt your dad doesn't like you wearing
disney movies, popcorn made on the stove and your whole family smooshed onto one couch on a friday night
those friday nights turn into another day of choking back cheap alcohol and ignoring your grandmother's emails