Silently scared,
she cowers in the corner...

It has been so long since I have felt
your cold yet comforting touch...

Behind red eyes
Lurks a monstrous creature...

A granny's little girl
is riddled with confusion...

Experiencing
beauty of the Northern Lights...

Programmed not to speak out loud,
it's hard to break the habit...

Seven hundred poems written with this hand
Each one telling it's own story of my life...

Anger building inside my body
as I try to type this poem...

Grabbed without warning
A dozen hands pulling me...

Beautifully thin
Or skeleton poking through...

Elegantly tall,
Leafy branches looking upwards...

Rumours of red eyes,
Eeriness creeping closer...