The Game

She might have never left a mark on me,
But over again did she beat my brain.
Her words still bruise my mind: dumb, worthless, fat,
She loved to abuse and break me like that.
And in the end, she thinks she won the game.

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This poem was inspired by an abusive struggle. It was written at age sixteen, born from a cup of green tea and a Friday night. A huge thank you goes to my friends in the LTHS Creative Writing room. Words can break you...but always remember that words can heal you, too.