Epic of the Broken

Once a child,
she has now grown,
and she bleeds onto pages,
to let her story be known.
White wings of angels
smile upon her back
but she fails to see them,
because it is faith that she must lack.
Within the barriers of her mind
she sees an infant child,
she still cannot find
who she really is.
Her story is not new,
others have felt the same pain,
yet she falls within herself
to avoid being hurt again.
This is her Epic,
this her story,
let the angels smile in her favor,
and settle into her heart
(lets make history)

She was abused as a small child,
she grew up in sin,
ever since she was 13,
she would not let people in.
She was afraid of what they would say,
of what they would do,
so she took the pain anyway,
and had no remorse.
Her friend and companion was killed,
by a disease with no cure,
and so left a gaping hole
that could not be filled.
She ran with the resources she had,
and he was an abusive young man
though in comparison to some,
it wasn't nearly that bad.
Alone she walked while a man on her back
beating her down farther
so far-she thought she would snap.
She did not, and she remained strong,
for she had the shining hope,
the abuse would not last long.
Worse and worse it got,
before at last,
he went too far and
she shattered like glass.
He raped her
and she became nothing
no longer could she
continue running.
She realized what he had done,
and where she had to go,
she rose above the
rising anger flow.
She left him behind,
and a new life she has made,
with those by her side,
she can see hope again.
Though she still suffers,
alone and inside,
she knows she can get through it
with friends alongside.
Problems with drinking, and nightmares arise,
but she can still feel the pounding pain,
alone on the inside.
She turned to cutting, thought it would take the pain away,
yet it made things much worse,
and she threw the blade away.
But it was so much more than a resource-it was an addiction
and now she struggles with wanting to
cut open her skin.
She turned to alcohol, to stifle her ghosts' screams,
but they came ever stronger,
and in her mind did the voices ring.
She would sit alone in a corner,
crying for a God she knew little about,
but nothing, and no-one,
would exorcise those damn Ghosts out.
Blood became her friend,
it was the only thing she knew,
and she knew that cutting would only cause
the same pain again.
She couldn't rise above it,
even with her friends,
and she began sinking slowly,
into her own oblivian.
Once a child of beauty and hope,
she see only her flaws,
and cannot even begin
the process to cope.
Therapy sessions and time away
from the impending chaos
kept most of the pain at bay.
But as she lies to sleep, her ghosts come back,
and the monsters lash out at her,
and make the attack.
So at night she wakes,
alone again-
she is suprised it takes
so little to scare her.
She calls for help, and others come,
yet she pushes them away,
and even to some,
ends her existance with them
to "save" who they were.

She cries for mercy,
she cries for redemtion,
but they cannot honestly see
why she is locked in insanity.
Open the doors,
let her in
and help heal this wounded
child of sin.