Growing Up

By: Lauren

Gentle breeze

Caressing her skin

Like the hands that roamed freely

over her landscape

Chills run down her spine

Goosebumps rise from the memory

Or is it just the wind?

Rays of sunlight cascade down,

Like her golden locks

That flowed as a river over her pillow

While she tilted her head back to gasp

A quick intake of breath

Stop. Stop. Not like this.

She still wants to be Daddy’s Little Girl

She feels prickling and itching

From the grass underneath her

It reminds her of the uncomfortable heat

That had coursed through her veins

She can still feel the hurt

Despite it being months later

The emptiness is still there

As vast as the sky above her

She can just imagine her soul,

Soaring through the blueness

Not confined within this

useless, caged human body

Bruised and abused

A 99 cent whore

That was all he had paid…