Little girl on the ground.

Wicked spirits all around.

She screamed and clutched her head.

Was she alive or was she dead?

She never could tell or so it seems.

She could see both sides of everything.

She lay awake alone at night.

Her head and heart filled with fright.

No one could tell she was going bad.

All she was to others was sad.

She sat in a corner wide eyed and hugging her knees.

All she could do was beg and plead.

No one knew that something was wrong.

Except the girl whose feelings were strong.

She knew she was going mad.

But the parents didn’t.

Poor Mom and Dad.

Her favorite characters were the Hatter and Hare.

The feelings came from she knew not where.

When they asked her she would say that she was “fine” and she’s “okay”.

She pleaded “God take this ‘gift’ away”.

She waited hours and waited days.

The gruesome things never left.

They were stole her joy, committing theft.

She cried herself to sleep most nights, piercing her skin.

The next day she’d wear sleeves and be “fine” again.

The things came relentlessly and never were gone.

She was scared her whole life long.

Seventeen years she was dealt this card.

Life was getting way too hard.

The ghosts and ghouls stalked her asleep or awake.

Trying hard to make her break.


By Aradia Carey 2016

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