Growing Up
I am fifteen years old and I think I own the world.
I have a boyfriend and he loves me.
He yells at me but that is okay, he loves me.
He shoves me but that is okay, he loves me.
He slapps me but that is okay, he loves me.
He holds me down as I yell and scream because it hurts but that is okay, he loves me.
I am sixteen years old and I escaped my first abusive relationship.
I am sixteen and numb inside.
I am sixteen and I see him in the darkness.
I am sixteen and his body weight smothers me at night.
I am sixteen and I live in fear of his face.
I am sixteen and I panic in the halls at school.
I am sixteen and I wake up crying.
I am sixteen and my body has no more value.
I am seventeen and I observe the world.
I am seventeen and the world thinks I am a child.
I am seventeen and I see the abuse.
I am seventeen and I see the heartbreak.
I am seventeen and I have looked evil in the face.
M.C. Newberry
Mon 24th Jul 2017 16:12
The content and its message are timeless in the context
of growing up and each generation seems to need the
lesson taught and heeded - or dangerously disregarded.
The young can think they know it all
Cinderellas at the ball.
When self-deception comes to call
Pride and pain precede the fall.