I slam my fists over and over again onto my thighs. Trying to let out all the anger at first it hurts then the pain turns into a stinging feeling. Later turning to numbness. Crying, breathing hard, yelling, I realize I need to stop. What if they see and know that I go home and cry myself to sleep every night. Can't give them satisfaction. The redness from my fists slowly fade away but the pain is still there. My thighs that were a nice shade Brown, now a light red. Sting with anticipation as I get up. Looking myself in the mirror, cleaning my face and faked the perfect smile everyone knows me by. Time for me live another day full of lies.
Sincerely,
I.B.
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poems of a damaged teenage girl
PoesiEveryone poem is mine and real life experiences unless stated otherwise. I give full credit to every owner
