Ink beneath fingertips

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Girls like you, so innocent, so fragile,
But only from outside not inside,
You, yes you! You can be eveything you want to be.
But people see only what they want to see,
A little girl with sun shining through her branches,
Vulnerable and easily wounded by the words and harsh realities of the world.
But what they don’t see darling is the lady inside.
The one with a free soul no walls can confide,
The one who can make her own light,
Who has survived all the nightmares one wishes to never come alive.
People call you ‘small’, ‘petite’,
What if they ever get to see you fight?
Fight all those monsters inside your head,
Dragging you everyday more and more closer to hell.
If they see those tally marks like lines on your wrists,
Every mark a sign of a war you survived,
They think you have a death wish,
while all you are struggling for is to have a normal life.
You are not a clear blue sky or a star lit night,
You are the dark clouds covering the sky,
Ink beneath the finger tips,
The text in italics.
You are no drizzle but the storm trapped inside those tiny bones.
You are the one who can build a crown with her own leaves and be the queen of her own fortress.
You have spent so many nights whispering prayers inside your pillow.
And when those prayers will be finally answered you no longer will feel hollow.
There is a music to your sadness and a a small whisper of hope is enough to ignite that strength running through your veins like blood.
While you are looking for someone to brighten your darkest nights,
You are set on making everyone realize their worth,
And that’s what defines you girl.
I promise you one day you will pry open your ribcage And let your heartbeat fast and free for someone who will not treat you like a second choice.
Until then hang in there! Nothing lasts forever, not even the darkest times.
Even with every branch bare you are livelier than any flower in the spring.
You were made to swim girl so stop trying to drown yourself.

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