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Bullet

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Try looking in the mirror and seeing
Scars left by a beast
A predator marking its prey
A monster devouring its victim


Try looking in the mirror and seeing
A seven year old
Ripe in adolescence
Tattered, beaten
Drenched in haunting memory


Trying looking in the mirror and seeing
The broken wrist
The bruises from trying to fight back
The cuts from His pocket knife


Try looking in the mirror and seeing
The unerasable blood stains
The phantom handprints


Try looking in the mirror and seeing
The brand new hello kitty converse that she’ll never wear again
The sparkly, pink princess shirt that was torn to shreds
The orange cotton play-shorts, soiled and thrown across the room


Try listening to everyone who “knows better”
You’re overreacting
You’ll be fine
It’s a part of life


Try listening to the heinous abominations that blame you
The self-righteous pigs who are certain you wanted it
The hypocritical professionals who knew it was bound to happen
And the concupiscent men who attempt to explain how “men have needs”


Try listening to all the misogynistic b*****ds
He was such a great kid
He just wanted a good time
Men will be men, right?


Try listening to music when all you hear are
The cries
The begs
The beatings


Try turning up your music
Keep cranking up the volume
But nothing can hide the pain-filled screams


Try accepting anyone in your life
When you’ve only ever been hurt
His treasured touch tarnished your trust


Stop trying to forget
You know it’s there
A bullet lodged in your heart
It doesn’t kill you
Yet.




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