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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Sunday, January 18, 2015

The Girl At the End of the Rope

The girl at the end of the rope
dangled like a broken piñata
Her father found her first
Tried to breathe her life back
It was rejected
like an incompatible organ

Her mother screamed
A scream full of terror and grief
It echoed
in the house
in dreams

The girl's father had twice failed
Could not protect
his daughter or
his wife
like a man should
He became a cicada shell
an empty husk of what had been
defined now by its absence

The mean girls at school
rolled their mascaraed eyes
Said it was just a joke
Only a loser
would take their taunts and threats seriously
She did

Instead of returning from spring break
with a knot in her stomach
She fastened a knot around her neck
The girl at the end of the rope.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Mini-Challenge, In Other Words

10 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh so sad, Lolamouse. I resonate with the father becoming a cicada, in response to the trauma. Typical mean girl response. I have heard of such very sad deaths and can almost hear the mother's wail. An unimaginable loss.

Björn Rudberg said...

So sad.. A tragedy - the suicide of a young girl. Sometimes I think the hardness of the mascara eyes will be welled with tears and regrets - in their solitude at night.

Marcoantonio Arellano said...

individuals handle heartfelt pain and anguish differently. too many are not provided information or knowledge from a very young age how to relieve some of the pain. and too many are not sensitized toe how actions and words against others can cause such hurt. this issue has got to be discussed much more. i have witnessed this ultimate decision made by both familiar acquaintances and veterans. we need to reach out.

gracias for highlighting this issue with this poignant piece, mi amiga

Outlawyer said...

Ow. So sad and of course it has happened. You carry this out so cleverly while not losing the essential poignancy and horror of the subject. Thanks. K. Manicddaily

Kerry O'Connor said...

This hots hard, LM. The word play of your title is gut-wrenching once the poem is read. The issue of self-worth and interminable bullying will never be solved so long as people continue to turn a blind eye. I'm glad you wrote this poem.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Sorry..

*hits hard*

hedgewitch said...

Ugly in its truth about who we as a civilization seem to be becoming. Not that this never used to happen, just that people were taught the inner skills to deal with it, of a self-worth based on something besides feedback from 'social media' and peer acceptance. The writing itself is excellent, full of vivid images like the empty cicada shell and the rejected organ that make the poem all that much stronger. Kudos to you, LM for speaking the most uncomfortable truth.

georgeplace2 said...

The anguish in this is jagged. It is a tragic truth.

Susie Clevenger said...

So sad. When will people understand the impact of their words?

Margaret said...

one used to be able to lead school and get away from it all. Now we have FB, Twitter, Instagram, cell phones… it doesn't stop! Obviously a poem for our times…