Hot, pulsing anger pushes her
flows from her fingertips
like bolts of lightning.
She wears a daily mask
of hatred and apathy
so no one can guess her reality.
But, if you look closely
you might glimpse in her eyes
the scared little girl inside…
Eight in years but thirty-eight in her soul
too wise for her young age
too broken to still be a child.
Beatings routinely rain down on her
a small punching bag for mom
rape is her unwelcome companion.
She knows only searing pain and hate
lashing out at school because
love and caring are foreigners.
All she really wants, all she really needs
is someone to see; someone to care;
someone to save her.