The Forgotten Witness

Does Justice exist?

Streaming tears wet my face beneath red rimmed eyes.
Touch my cheek before pulling away to examine droplets.
Staining delicate features with afflicted memories.

Many times I've wondered if I even had
anymore tears; a question quickly answered.
Notepads scattered around hold my heart.

Candle flickering inside my soul,
doused with blinding fear drenching skin.
Quiet crying within my mind being suffocated
from voices feigning concern.

Child holding a porcelain doll to her chest,
always looking outside glass walls.
Me searching for answers, some protection,
in the world I lost most trust with.

Who would I have been?

Iron fences, invisible to naked eyes,
restricting me from touching others.
Creating space between me and caresses.
Something I constantly ache for.

Reading newspaper stories never pour
dread into my body as they used to.
I’ve been toppled over with emotions,
fear spilling from life’s champagne glass.

Walking these broken streets with nothing
to keep me warm under streetlights.
Bright flashes leaking inside of me
putting my body on the edge of alertness.

Picking faded papers from the road,
one leading me from my past to the present.
Still seeing that child longing inside of me,
just waiting for somebody to hold her.

I am The Forgotten Witness