losing ground

falling asleep
grasping pages
soaked
god help her she can’t stop crying

no wonder the days flew yet dragged
floating by like swollen corpses

she hasn’t been herself
since she was twelve
what a fine job they did
they didn’t quite finish her off
with their grooming, quelling
along with doses of candy-coated filth

played with mercilessly
kicked aside when bored
what could a child do
when coaxed then vomited
in the most basic of ways

shriveling not in her nature
death a near choice
somehow too inept to assert or commit
she stuck around

no wonder the spinal was a relief
sagging finally allowed like boots being dragged down by water

she took pictures of herself
to see what they saw
since mirrors lied and reversed fortune
her body soft yet damaged
bearing regally ravages of time
calling in the most basic of ways

awake and pissed off
aching chest
clutching
god help her she can’t stop crying