Julianna May

Her arms have scars
Her life’s not whole.
She opens up, to some new shining stars
That turn out to be disguised black wholes.
So the walls are back up
And some new scars appear,
As do some new falling tears.

Her mom’s never home,
Her dad’s always gone.
This life she lives isn’t her own.
Decisions are made
And she picks up the blade.
“I can’t do this anymore!”
She cries in the dark.

A scream was made,
And then she was gone;
A whisper in the wind, a tear in the storm.
Just because she looked so strong,
Didn’t mean she never fell asleep crying.
And even though she acted like nothing was wrong;
Maybe, just maybe, she was really good at lying.