Pretty

And she doesn’t realize why
He says that she’s pretty;
The girl next door,
The girl without a smile,
The girl with a sunrise
Across her eyes.

He stands there to speak
But she cannot listen.
He stands there to hear her
But she cannot speak.

But while she is standing there, while she is feeling broken
On the inside of her almost-empty shell;
She feels complete
As she realizes that the boy next door,
Her knight in shining armor, her prince charming,
Cares about her.

Then the world around her changes, it moves
Differently, more carefully.
Like whimsical dance steps across
A pool of broken glass.
But she is visible now to him.

He can see her.

But with a ruined face, with a broken smile;
She doesn’t realize why she’s pretty in his eyes.
In her heart she knows that pretty is not her
But she cannot realize
That the sunrise across her eyes
That the violet hand on her throat
That the ears that her hair covers
Is not a sign of pity
Is not a sign of humiliation

He sees her, the girl next door
And he sees the blood on the grass
And he hears the threats and screams
And he wants to help her, he wants to free her

And that boy next door sees her,
And she doesn’t realize why
She’s pretty in his eyes.

Written September 1 2006.