The smell of smoke lingered in the air
As reminders of burnt sage clung to her hair
What was once a pentagram drawn in the ground
The wind had picked up and scattered around
Where were her friends, they could not be seen
Only clothes remained where they once had been
Surely she thought, they would not leave her behind
As paranoid delusions began to creep into her mind
She got up and dressed, never once looking back
At the place where last night they had planned their attack

The book said this ritual would give them the strength that they needed
To stand up to those who tormented them while they pleaded
They begged everyday just to be left alone
From the constant jokes and ridicule that cut down to the bone
Three teenaged girls they were, just trying to survive school
Amongst the venom of those who had long ago forgotten the golden rule
Ostracized everyday they were constantly hated
And then sent home, where even worse things awaited
Intrusive little brothers and over protective mothers,
             her friends didn’t have it so bad
Only she knew the true evil of her black-hearted step-dad

Being broken inside was a terrible thing
To her sanity each day, she did try to cling
Each afternoon in the woods they would gather to pray
That somehow it would end before all hope faded away
When asked about her new dad, she’d force a smile and a lie
Admitting to none the cuts she placed atop her own thigh
Each night she laid in fear of the sound,
             drunken steps once again echoing down the hall
Her mother had grown deaf to the scared screams of her own daughter’s call
All alone, she had nowhere to go and to no one she could turn
Trapped inside of her pain she felt her soul twist and burn

They found the old dust covered book in the attic one day
To the woods they had gone that night as witches to play
A spell they had found which promised great power
If performed correctly at just the right hour
A candle, some sage, and dagger they would bring
To at least give it a try seemed such a small thing
Her two friends made jokes, its words they had not believed
Is that why into herself, their souls she had received
She could see them now in the mirror, trapped just behind her eyes
Don’t worry my sisters, she told them, for today everyone dies


written for: The Speakeasy #136



26 responses to “Broken

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