Steps to an Imperfect Ending

Peering into the choked memory
Of a little girl carrying with her
A burden of a pressured home,
An ill thought-of religion,
And a uniform made for a prisoner.

Little girl cried in those days
Singing nonsensical tunes to hush the screaming pain
They bypassed her and questioned her sanity;
Her depression lingers sixteen years later

Falling in an out of confusion
Same as walking down nameless streets
With saran wrap plastered across her face;
Lungs burning with small fingers
Clawing at her throat
Leaving wounds raw and bleeding
For the world to see with a mocked pity.

“Water,” She would scream but her voice was so quiet
She was so shy to speak
They walked passed her without a second glance
Just murmuring and questioning
Those questions never answered

Years would pass and each urge grew stronger
Each desire would reach unimaginable limits
To find the world’s truth
And become one with the other side
That day never came

Honesty runs across my tongue
Like the sweet residue of a lovers kiss
Kiss my wrist for me
“Thank you for being strong,” Little girl would whisper
As little hand finally tore open the saran wrap
To reveal the new embodiment
Of the final to conclusion
To an imperfect ending.