Sixteen Candles

Waking at the crack of dawn
Waiting for a new feeling
But everybody’s gone
She’s left there reeling

The sunlight from the window pane
Creeps over her bed
She’s numb, can’t feel any pain
She quietly whispers

Pretty pink presents
Weaving ribbons of hope
Bubbly laughter
Dreams hanging by a single rope

A rough voice breaks the velvet silence
Her thoughts shatter like a million pieces
Of her already broken heart
A sharp gasp

The doorknob jangling across the room
A silent, single tear
A fatigue that draws over her
The smell of danger

The smell of liquor swims around her
The door slams open
She cringes as white chips fall from the ceiling
A familiar fear

The first “Happy Birthday.”
But not for her own good
No
Meant with bad intentions

She silently weeps as she turns sixteen
After sixteen years of crying
Sixteen years of slowly dying
Sixteen years of already being dead