Faded

When you look into my eyes, what do you see?

 

Do you see a happy child filled with laughter and joy?

 

Please, tell me what you see in my eyes.

 

Do you see a bird, free as can be?

 

Well you’re wrong.

 

I’m nothing like a bird. I’m trapped making me feel that life is not significant.

 

Making me feel I can’t go on.

 

You see you don’t see the pain I’m going through.

 

It’s like having a hundred knifes been pierced into my body.

 

And with every stab there is a wound. And behind that wound there is a message behind it. ‘You are zilch because you are trapped’.

 

You see me in school as an average girl, happy with loads of friends playing chatting and flirting with boys. But you see once I go home that girl is no more.

 

I wish my home was like my college, I was free. I could actually feel the cold wind brush against my cheek, making it look like I was wearing bright red blusher.

 

But when it comes to my home- it’s different.

 

When I go home, it’s like I’m a black-and-white television with no emotions or colour at all.

 

With my dad who’s an alcoholic beating my mum and I like we were a drum kit he got last Christmas.

 

My mother, who can’t even look at me face to face, with the bruises on her face, looking like a dismantled, rearranged person… where did it go wrong,?

 

When my dad beats me, I feel the coldness of his hands, I hear the heavy breathing, I smell his drunkenness; smelling of some heavy whisky. I see the blood coming out from my head, and spray out onto the floor,

 

I see my mother slowly dying, tears from my eyes empty out. I didn’t want her to leave me. I wanted me and her to runaway to a safe place. I wanted my mum to see me finish college then onto my graduation then seeing her own grand children.

 

I suddenly feel like I was going away.

 

Did God really listen to my prayers?

 

I could feel I was loosing power, weak in fact.

 

It was like my soul at a train station, about to leave the platform. Was I finally getting away from this aggressive monster?

 

Next minute I knew…

 

I stopped.

 

Breathing.



Lexiiaaah Poems xx Enjoy xx

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Comments (1)
  • hope u like it. it was actually for a friend for her work. i was really touched when i wrote this. sometimes i have no idea what im doing untill the end. makes sence though...