She always felt like an outsider,

Like she didn’t belong.

They told her they didn’t like her,

That her existence was wrong.

Another unwanted child,

Another person to dislike.

She lived in endless darkness,

She wished for warm light.

She would whimper as each blow rained down.

Her delicate skin a mixture

Of blues, purples and reds,

On top of her beautiful olive skin.

She would painfully crawl

Under her bed, close to the wall

Curl into a ball

To make herself small

And hope

They would forget her existence for a while.

So often she wished

She had never been born.

To never have felt pain,

She lived without warmth.

She vowed that when she was older

She would leave.

She would walk far, far away

To follow her dreams.

Her dreams were simple,

Just to feel loved.

To live in warmth,

To feel like she belonged.

She waited for the fog to lift

And one day it did.

She walked away without looking back,

The people she left,

To remain in her past.

At last, she was free.