As we weep
The flowers grow
From the pain
We rise
But when anger strikes us
We burn
We turn to ash
Once we are ash
We stay ash

We were told by our mothers
That the spirits
That the winds that blow against our skin
Will one day move through us
And take what little of us remains
The wind will soar and carry us
Across fields and streams and mountains

But the winds have died
There are no more tears
No fire burns
And the flowers don't grow

We've killed ourselves

I think back to when it happened,
think back to that awful day.
The day when it all happened,
the day he took "it" away.

Fighting. Yelling. Crying.
It didn't matter how loud I screamed.
Nobody came to help me.
Nobody came to set me free.

I still dream of running,
of trying to break away.
Of feeling him catch me,
every **** day.

I see him in the shadows,
even while I'm at home.
I close my eyes and pray he's gone,
only then I can't help but feel him.

To this day I feel him,
his tight grip on my wrists,
The pressure of his body
as I tried to resist.

He continued to ****** away,
as I fought and yelled and cried.
It didn't matter how loud I screamed,
Nobody came to help me.
Nobody came to set me free.

At the end, my hand
Nor my fingers trembled as
I grasped her pale neck.