Shaking hands reach for small pink lips.
Empty eyes know the floor.
Dark red hair, covering small marks,
Is choppy, cut to match
A style, but not her own. She has no
Remnant left of herself.
Letting others control her every move, she
Lost herself in their lies.
A diminutive figure, alone with no self,
Finds hallways are her Hell.
Her stature lets shadows help her hide
Whilst showing where she walks.
A foot. She can't speak as she falls,
No way to catch herself
As people keep walking, barely seeing
The small girl. Those who do
Only laugh, leaving her to be kicked
By those who do not see
That maybe she could still feel pain.
No, to them, she's nothing.
Nothing but the bloody dyke, who
No one cares to help now.
A muted voice gives a silent scream,
But no one hears her cry.
Breaking quickly, no one can see
How fast she slips away.
Oh no, the bell, it's ringing now.
She's late, but do they care?
Will they miss her if she's not once there?
No doubt, no one can see.
Her small glass jaw, they glued it shut,
And deep marks they left on her heart.
It's breaking, her body, and her soul.
Small, frightened tears she cries.
No one can hear her, no one can see,
Her silent screams from inside.
