No Response

Pushes and punches, teases and screams
No one ever wanted to listen.
No one ever wanted to really see.

She gripped it- cold and silver.

Sharp, stinging to the touch.

Salt water heavily streams down her rosy cheeks.
She made a slash, then two, doubling to four.
Up, down, left, right.

Light-headed, her irises danced.
Her rosy cheeks transformed to white
Her white wrists, transforming to rose.

There was a thud to the floor,
then a small knock from the other side of the wood.
"Are you okay in there?"
No response.
There was a twist of the knob, the tug of the handle.
No response.
The banging continues, almost aggressive.
No response.

Where was everyone before this happened?
That's right: no response.

This poem is about: 
My community
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 



So very sad. Such a reality for many :( Thanks for this poem, and all of its honesty.

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