She Was Just a Girl

She was born into a world,
Our world.
She was perfect,
But somehow she was always the problem,
She was just a burden. 
But she was just a girl, 
Born into our broken world.

She was just a girl, 
When she would tip toe to the bathtub,
Hiding,
Trying to drown out her mother’s screams,
Praying that they don’t stop, because she knew what came next,
What always came next.

She was just a girl,
When she believed, 
The thin fabric of the shower curtain could protect her,
From her mother’s hurtful words and her father’s strong arms.
When she was left with bruises and broken bones,
Because she forgot to clean up her toys.
When she cried,
Silent tears,
Alone.

She was just a girl,
When she watched her mother walk away,
Not once looking back at her six year old daughter,
Suitcase packed.
When her father’s drunken anger, 
Left her with nothing but bruises to hide, 
And a broken heart.

She was just a girl,
When he left her too,
With a bang,
And a gun,
His gun,
His hand,
He left.

She was just a girl,
When she was left alone in the streets,
No mom, 
No dad,
No one.
When she was convinced she was a bad person,
Because,
As her father used to say, 
“Bad things happen to bad people.”

She was just a girl,
When she was arrested,
For breaking into an abandoned house,
To escape the cold of the winter.
When she was beaten daily,
In prison,
Simply because she was the smallest.
The weakest.

She was just a girl,
When she was released,
With no one to go home to.
When her boyfriend drugged her,
Left her for dead.
When she gave up.

She was just a girl,
When she met a genuine boy,
When she was happy,
When it was too good to be true,
Because she was a problem.
She was always a problem.

She was just a girl,
When she debated daily,
Life or death. 
When she only saw herself,
As the girl her parents
Told her she was. 
When she believed,
The genuine boy would leave.

She was just a girl,
When she left him,
With a bang, 
And a gun,
Her fathers gun,
Her hand, 
She left.