Outside my window,
planted is a fiery red-
branched tree,
I watch on, it stands bold
and oh so elegantly.
I try to imagine if it were a woman
What would her appearance be —

Would she be in one of Dali’s paintings
‘Woman Aflame’?
Would she be ‘Demelza’ in Poldark’s series?
Or would she be a spirit woman
ablaze for all the world to see,
Your creation and Your infinite beauty?

I know what it feels like
To be
pushed,
hit,
Kicked,
laughed at,
to feel worthless
to be told to **** myself
to be late to class just to avoid my bullies
to ask teachers for help and not get help
I hate to say it but if I had the chance to make them pay for what they did, I would

Some nights I go down memory lane
Where I don't like to be,
I go there because flashbacks come back,
To the point where I'm in tears
I don't like to cry,
But I can't help it.
When I do end up crying,
It's too late.

On a cold January day,
I was abused
Bad
In school,
In the bathroom,
In the handicap stall,
I was left there to cry,

When I told the police,
It was too late,
Way too late.
They couldn't do anything because it was way too late.

Since then,
The last 2 years,
I've been bullied,
Harassed,
Physically and online

Not to the point where I wanted to do self-harm
But I've thought about it,
Several times.