The invisible blade – a poem by my young niece.

Another hateful speech
Echoed inside his mind,
So apparent, so clear,
Stinging as it played over and over,
Like a stuck record inside his head.
As each tear slipped from his eye onto the stone floor,
His pain became a realization.
Those words as sharp as weapons,
Like smithereens of glass embedded inside his head.
The skies cried with him that day,
Reflecting the grey of his eyes.

With a knife at his wrist,
And a prayer from his lips,
He was ready to let the blood drip until he no longer lived.
He closed his eyes to dream one final time,
And in the silence, in the dark,
He understood that he didn’t need them to understand,
He understood that different was also beautiful,
He was also beautiful.
And in that moment,
A conflagration ignited his self hatred to ashes,
As his lesion mind began to repair the crevices and cracks that caused him to break.
He stood up in a confident demeanor,
the deluge of nefarious words tried to drown him once again but he kept afloat, fighting the currents in this sea of detestation.
Those tiny cuts healed inside his head and he embraced himself for a new beginning.