The Girl

I am the silent girl who never dares to use her voice to speak 

Trying to find the words to articulate what I need but they don’t exist

Instead my inner demons scream and rage until I am battered and bruised 

And all the world sees is an empty shell of everything I used to be

I am the fragile girl whose bones carry the weight of the world 

Bearing my sorrows like open wounds carved by the slashes of an invisible weapon

Once the damage is done it disappears into the shadows until its next attack

I cower in fear from it, knowing when it will happen again

I am the shattered girl pieced back together more times than can be counted 

The haphazard stitches pull at me and direct me as if I were a puppet

My body is not my own, my mind is occupied by evil, and my spirit has been stolen

The devil took it away the day he decided to build my grave and dance on it

I am the empty girl whose soul is devoid of emotions

My vacant eyes listlessly reflect the world passing me by

I see everything through glasses tinted a palette of greys

And I long to stand in the storm so the raindrops might hide my tears

I am the girl in whom a small flame flickers and glimmers

It falters and nearly fades with the faintest of breezes 

The warmth of it gives me a thin ray of hope that pierces through the darkness 

I only wish that I knew how to keep it and myself alive.”

-emma cavanaugh

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