(5th)
I sit down inside of the clean stall. Tears are streaming down my face, and my sadness is choking me. I can't speak, and it's hard to breathe. The stress is unbearable and overwhelming; it's trapping me.
My heart aches in pain, and my lungs are filled with the tears leaving my eyes. I can't let it happen again. The ones I love push me away. The ones that say they love me, are digging their nails into my back and ripping my flesh in a cold embrace. I don't feel safe.
This is the only secluded room I can cry in.
The Stall.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry By A 6th Grader
PoetryPoetry written by a 6th grader that I know. She wants to share her poems with the world, and hopes other people enjoy or relate to them.