It’s over
The storm has passed
But there’s a deafening silence in the air
The excruciating silence
Of closure
The pain that only comes
When it’s over.
It’s over
The storm has passed
But there’s a deafening silence in the air
The excruciating silence
Of closure
The pain that only comes
When it’s over.
My name is Lucy Danto. I am in the eighth grade at the McCullough Junior High School in Texas. Please, if even for a brief moment, let my voice be heard.
Her blood is engraved into these pages
Slowly unraveling the truth
Exposing every flaw in perfection
Every short-lived high
Every precocious low
Has driven the knife deeper into her lingering past
They told me that time would heal the wounds,
But they couldn’t have been more wrong.
No matter how many years pass,
Time does not heal.
Time buries baggage until you forget,
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