Sticks and stones

If only they were just sticks and stones

That, she could handle

But this - the abuse

the torment

the mental anguish

This is seemingly unbeatable

Who do they think they are?

Their words, like knives to the heart

the self esteem

the being

Speaking falsehoods into her precious mind

Taking her emotions and playing them like a game

because to them,

she is a game.

They look into her eyes and see the person they’re making her into

Emotionless

(except for when she’s alone)

Painless

(except for when her thoughts take control)

They don’t see her slitting her wrists

or wishing death upon herself

They don’t see the mental torture she puts herself through every single day

Running their words through her mind, chewing on them like old gum

run and rerun

should’ve been tossed out a long time ago

But when you take an innocent little girl and throw her through the ringer of life

Torment her with words and images and abuse that she never deserved

She tends to lose her innocence

She may desperately cling to the picture of what she could’ve been

But when they afflict her with mental and verbal assaults

They don’t just play with her mind

but with her heart

And the heart is not so easily fixable