Dear “The name that shall never be spoken”,
What have you created? By who were you created?
Who told you it was fine to wreck a home?
A home is a temple and If you knock, she has the choice to let you in,
but you’ve broken the entering.
She looks forward to answers that she’ll probably never receive
or answers that she’s forced to believe.
Some things she can’t even achieve because there’s this voice screaming,
Not letting her sleep,
not letting her speak,
not letting her eat.
Now she looks forward to hope in a fortune cookie.
You’ve created a broken smile, a broken girl, that was broken for a while.
Wondering if and wondering why…
And now everytime she sees you,
she wonders if you understand the hurt that you have caused the her.
Fear to leave the temple and fear to let people in it.
You’ve created a monster.
Terror-stricken with all the pain and the pressure that everyone has to deal with but you.
You are not entitled to her body.
Her body's a temple that you must respect.
But instead you chose to neglect.
How do you value one’s worth of less than a piece of copper with a face?
To you her conscience was precious enough to destroy.
She stays quiet cause the voice in her head tells her that no one gives a damn.
No one pays attention to the broken girl with a destroyed conscience who was once believed to be as captivating as her early temple.
Her sorrow as deep as her tears.
Her pain as heavy as her fear.
A temple that’s broken
To: "the name that shall never be spoken"
The girl who has rebuildt her temple