Torn

torn and ripped apart
in a world that seems so bleak
she hides in a darkend room
ever afraid to speak
afraid of what they'll think
fearing judgement.
a phobic to their anger

yet reaching and hoping...
PRAYING
that one will turn around.
the one that can save her
from self doubt,
from bitter hate,
from herself.

whispering she calls
murmurs of desire
turmoil laced with love
or is it lust?

unsure and quite confused
she keeps to herself
never to be heard from

but still she waits
impatient and restless
wanting that salvation.