five years old, the earliest memory of blood
staring with curiosity almost forgetting
the torture of his hands invading, a child
young yet he thirst her innocence.
ten years old, barely hanging on to hope
she waited for a hero to bring her home
staring at the ceiling as he thrust, choking
her slowly into a state of shock.
fifteen years old, she screams raging wars
presented with solutions for dealing with
her pain in disbelief she thought why now,
why now they come to take her home?
twenty years old, now fighting for her soul
they say she is damaged, moving on
the pity they hold in their stares, she knows
her life she puts back in her control.
twenty-five years old, striving to be whole
failed to destroy the little girl
collecting the pieces she rebuilt
through the battle came a beautiful woman.