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Alan Maguire Feb 2013
Stark naked frame standing in her own feces but does it matter ?, I mean, is she important ? the old woman with the thin white hair that grows down to her ***

She's gnawing on a thought, gnawing on raw knuckles
knuckles bleed recieveing no care, just staring, just staring

She moves like the undead toward the female nurse, moving with time as though it mattered

she recieves a cigarette, she recieves a trickling smile though, the cigarette will surely burn longer than she will
Athena Bennett Apr 2017
Everybody has a story .
Some are full of glory,
Some are kinda gory.
But mine has no category.

Mine started when I was eight,
I remember I was running late.
I started to walk and began to accelerate.
I didn't know that I was way past checkmate.

That night my grandma passed away.
Daddy snapped later around midday.
His fist put me into a state of dismay.
That pain would never go away.

For years after I was a mute.
People thought I was weird, no dispute.
One day I had a bruise the size of grapefruit.
It was on my arm, honestly it seemed acute.

They called me names and I couldnt hide.
I was ten and my feelings were classified.
Everynight I woke up and I was terrified.
Thats when I shouldve committed sucide.

At eleven I was still recieveing bruises.
I was beginning to run out of excuses.
I was in a fight but my family never loses.
Im about to lose my mind, he might lose his.

I was twelve when I put cuts on my wrist.
I aimed for the vein, sadly I missed.
I never knew how I got caught up in this.
Every time I did I got so f
cking ******.

At thirteen I spoke again, but I had a stutter.
Behind my back I heard the kids mutter.
I heard the names the said, including cutter.
I made a friend, I hated everyone but her.

Then that btch stabbed me in the back.
Then I made sure my heart woudn't crack.
Thats when daddy decided to come back.
This time I knew I could fight back.

Daddy said I was prettyless, I got a black eye.
Then I snapped and I still don't know why.
I replied "Sorry, next time I won't cry.
When I leave you better know why."

I entered highschool when I was fourteen.
F
cking hell were those kids mean.
Beforehand I was two months clean.
All I could do is wait to turn eighteen.

Fifteen, thats when I got the scars on neck.
I remember the chair, and I was a wreck.
Taking a rope and tieing it around my neck.
Kicked the chair, but she was quick to check.

The rope burned my skin.
Stripped it down three layers in.
I was only told that I committed a sin.
No one saw how sad I had been.

But I told them, but they never listened.
Her story

— The End —