Deluded

She snuggles up to you there on the couch

Your own little girl, though she’s fifteen now

You stroke her hair as you watch her blue eyes

Tinted green-grey, and brimming with lies

 

But she makes sure you don’t realise the pain

Which plagues her small world with its unending rain

That her whole heart hangs on the phone in her lap

And the blonde, handsome guy with a baseball cap

 

She knows you don’t know of the cuts up her arm

How both tender wrists have been scarred by self-harm

That all of her friends reside right down the hall

A razor, a notebook, a cat, a football

 

This princess, so dear and so perfect to you

So innocent, from your love-tainted view 

She’s breaking, both on the inside and out

But her parents won’t see any teardrops or doubt 

 

She just cuddles closer; you tickle her chin 

“I love you Daddy,” whispered with a grin

And your searching gaze flickers over each eye

So sure that she never has told you a lie

 

© Vicky Morrison 2013-2014

 

 

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