Hurt Girl

Help.
All you wish--pray for
is
help.
Your stomach is tight,
so similar to
the emptiness
of a dusty playground.
Are you alone?

You wish--no, you pray
that you are not.
But why does the knot
in your weak perishing
body laugh at
your desperate wish?

You are alone.

Everything reminds you
of the night when
your family is asleep.
Awake; you are not.

You wish--oh god, you just pray
that this twisting emptiness
will not last another day.

Deep down in your relentless hole,
you hope your vain
wish will wash the pain
that only when all
is silent do
you show.

'Help' you cry
'Please do not
go.'