Broken

picture credit: unknown

I cry for the little girl standing at the gate, tears streaming down her cheeks because she didn’t know why she was left at home alone with her brother.  And I cry for the 10-year with the mussed up ponytail, who sat with her father on the backstairs of the garage, begging him to stay, to not leave her, while looking into his bleary eyes.

...my heart aches for the solitary teen, who wandered alone through the busy school halls with a scowl of indifference to keep people away, all the while building an insurmountable wall under the guise of disregard and rebellion...

I cry for the young woman who mistook attention for caring, placed acknowledgement before intent, was so desperate for love that she willingly consented to harmful things, ‘til the need to lose her feelings led to chosen medications just to numb the screaming voices of her sadness and her pain.

...and my heart bleeds for the woman whose tears greet her every morning, as the thought of another day plunges her into deep despair...