I always told my mom that there was a monster under my bed. She of course never believed me,she always said that i had an over imagination. She gave me a night light so the monster would go away,but that never helped,it just angered her. There was nothing I could do to get rid of this monster,so I ignored it,I listened to music every night so I couldn’t hear the screams. I’m 16 now,the monster is ...

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can no one see the pain of the shadow of a broken girl

living in a broken home?

can no one see the scars that her “cat” has made?

or the fact that there are new ones almost everyday?

does anyone notice the pain behind her eyes?

the “i’m fine” and a fake smile?

does anyone even care about anyone else anymore?

the name calling “whore” “slut” “fat” “ugly” “stupid” and many more

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