Thirteen Years
Twelve years, eleven months, and twenty seven days.
She only had twelve years, eleven months, and twenty seven days:
Of running through life wearing rose colored glasses glued to her face,
So that no one could steal them.
Twelve years, eleven months, and twenty seven days.
Of frolicking through years with a lamb’s heart and a child’s soul.
Innocence, or ignorance, or insolence.
Twelve years, eleven months, and twenty seven days.
Of giving benefits of the doubt out as a mother should give her love.
As her mother gave her love.
Twelve years, eleven months, and twenty seven days.
And on the twenty eighth day,
It was thirteen years.
Thirteen years.
The glasses were stolen.
The lamb was lost.
The soul was tainted.
It began as a war.
First it was overseas; a prime minister and a president fighting for land that wore yellow and blue.
Then the war seeped to her soul.
She realized her world was not sunshine and roses.
She realized her home was not at all worth it.
She realized her family was not picture perfect.
And her mind dissociated as her heart yearned to stay.
She was called away from a youth she didn’t want to leave.
She was forced into a world she didn’t want to see.
She tried to close her eyes but the lids burned as they shut
So she saw.
She saw a mother who yelled more than she whispered.
She saw a brother who had mid-traumatic stress disorder
She saw an uncle who spent more time in the hospital than home.
Thirteen years - A coming of age birthday.
When a world collapses, a child is aged.
She grew thirty years in the span of a day, and lost her mind along the way
And then a girl crossed her path,
An anomaly in society, but a heart worth fighting towards.
The two children, both elderly in spirit, learned to dance in the rain they inherited.
Not a mentor or guide, but a sister and friend,
She gave the girl a reason to love again.
Fourteen years - They travelled far, and wide, and deep
To a place on the horizon of both girls’ dreams.
She forgot about the war, and rested far from the waves,
But though she slept, the violence still raged.
She filled her time with little things that let her imagine joy,
And forgot for a while that the world was on fire,
And was tempted to stay and keep it that way.
But heaven is not meant for little girls,
Who believe they are eighty or ninety years old.
Heaven is a privilege that only the young are gifted,
And the girl was forced to leave her haven.
Fifteen years - she found a family.
Sisters and brothers, a school that was home,
A new pair of rose glasses, to shield from the storm.
But the rain turned to hail and the glass cracked and fell.
She crawled, red welts wailing as the ice fell
Her sky crumbled and her world melted.
Sleep cannot help when a soul is exhausted.
Sixteen years - started to feel safe with loneliness,
The pain in her heart hurt less when she sought it out.
Her left arm became tattooed with shadows of prison stripes,
She walked in the rain so no one saw her cry
Death and her became closely acquainted,
For she nearly grasped the hand he offered in the shape of a kitchen knife.
Death and her became like lovers, waiting to make the first move until they truly liked each other.
She thought they did.
Seventeen years - she learned not to love,
Actions spoke louder than words, and all she heard were acts of hate,
And she had selective hearing but was scared to listen to the loving words because it hurt her less to believe she wasn’t loved than to think she was and have her heart broken.
She was lost and crawling, desperate and afraid,
And a boy appeared and called her by her name.
She took his hand as he showed her around.
A new home and haven he knew she had found.
He handed her a pair of normal lenses,
A prescription made for the grit and the gray.
She saw the world still broken and burning,
But she no longer wanted to turn away.
The rain still cold, the wind still bit, she shielded her eyes
But for the first time since twelve years, eleven months, and twenty seven days,
She didn't turn away.
Instead, she fights.
Comments
Beautifully written to say the least. Absolutely loved it, and I hope the girl, whoever she is, is getting through stronger than ever before. Best of luck to you
WHY AM I CRYING? This is so beautiful
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