• Note of caution to the reader
    My words are far from kind
    At seventeen
    I’ve seen some things
    There is no censor for my mind

    But my fingers do have blisters
    When I think of my dead sisters
    Bodies cast out in broken heaps
    They line the earth like litter

    And my eyes do have tears
    As they have for thirteen years
    But though I am still blinded
    I can all but clearly hear

    There perishing screams as they were discarded
    There shallow breaths as they had departed
    The baleful end of innocence
    Thats when the real nightmare started...