Existent

Did my hands curl up into little furls of

an undying rose

a tiny four year old girl, 

were my ankles pressed closer together than your lips

that remained sealed,

your finger, a cover and a promise

to relinquish your deed? 

and were my eyes, bluer than the purest of oceans, suddenly

gone brown in the feeling of contemptuous demise?

or does such a young girl, even know that feeling,

of uprooted cries? 

did you not realise, that the incapable hands that you

pinned down that night, couldn't even write? 

did you know that when you hushed that innocent girl,

you silenced her for hundreds of nights- did you care

that you were ruining her life,

did you notice

you were tearing her up inside- soiling her mind, 

stabbing her in the chest, where pools of the lullabies 

that you sang her to sleep, were oozing out and scarring the sheets

that you buried her dreams in,

and so peacefully

could sleep in, at night.