She lies
on a bed of cruelty and sorrow
Staring up
at the happiness above her
Truth holds her by her neck—a noose without a rope.
A constant reminiscence
of what she will never have.
Straining against the handcuffs
Despairing
she reaches toward the light,
Trying to grasp a piece of the joy and steal it for herself,
Trying to prove Lamarck’s theory,
of use and disuse,
If you stretch enough
maybe one day you’ll get taller.
Her whole life.
a melancholy pursuit
of the dreams she clings to
Longing for love and affection.
But those who have everything
Look down upon her with ominous disapproval,
Daring her to object
Just so they can smash her and her dreams back to the
Cold
Hard
ground.
Where she lies
Shaking. Trying to bear the burden.
Anger pent up inside her
Like a volcano about to blow
Hope seeping from deep within her bruised heart
Roaring with fury
She climbs to her knees
Trembling
She stands.