She comes home,
tattered
beaten
sore.
“Oh God what did they
do to you?”
Hide the scars, the pain,
the embarrassment.
Lock the door, blast the music
Fall into a fantasy world:
a better world.
Drift along the chorus,
sleep on the bridge,
twirl with the verses,
laugh along with the lyrics.
She trusts no one,
everyone has left her.
she picks up a CD, flicks it open
and plays it.
As it starts slowly spinning she thinks:
music never refuses to play,
simply because
it doesn’t feel like it.
They all laugh,
She’s different, they know.
She wants to stand out,
She doesn’t want to fit a mold,
They all look down on her
but:
Music encourages her.