An Angel; Not a Ghost

A rope necklace, a razor's sting
these are the things that haunt a little girl's dream
gone are ballet slippers of the past
here is a darkness that's fading in fast.
A crimson bracelet, and fuzzy brain,
one of these poisons will dull the pain.
Her family can't hear her.
Her friends fail to try.
How is it this angel is wishing to die?
A corset of ribs, no ribbons to see
she starves for attention, she hopes to break free.
Her mind is a prison, her life is a war.
Is this what her best friend lived and died for?
Whispers and glances are her shadow now,
they follow her, turn her into a clown.
She folds her hands after crossing her chest
night after night, she's praying for death.
Her virtue is gone now, she's empty inside
she laid on her back, and a piece of her died.
She hears in the hallway, his tale of that night.
He lies, says she never put up a fight.
The pills don't numb her.
The cuts aren't the same.
She wanted to be famous,
but she'll die from the fame.
She shattered her cellphone to stop the calls,
boys that have found her on desks or in stalls.
'Slut' and 'Whore' those aren't her name,
she feels like a pawn in the cruelest game.
A rope necklace, a wooden throne
it falls from beneath, she's almost gone.
A few helpless kicks, a flash of life in her eyes
she sees what could have been if she hadn't died.
A husband, a son, and a Labrador too.
Her life turned out happy, but she never knew.
She saw herself laughing.
She saw herself smile.
She saw that her life was actually worth while.
And with a jolt, she woke with a shock
though the necklace was heavy, she'd tied the wrong knot.
Out of her many mistakes, she loved this one the most.
Now she could be an angel, without being a ghost.
♠ ♠ ♠
I know that so far all my poems have been darker, but I promise I write happy things too! xx