i’m sitting outside,
on a blue bench,
staring at nothing,
minding my own business,
but then i hear something,
i look over and see Her,
standing there,

with her greasy blonde hair,
talking to Her “friend”
Her voice pierces my eardrums,
like nails on a chalk board.
she looks over and whispers something,

and then i see Her turn towards me,
and she starts walking my way
why is she coming over here?
why Her? she is the devil
as she gets closer,
my level of fear rises,
i’m terrified.

i look down at the ground,
hoping to be ignored,
i can see Her dirty black boots,
“hey trash”
she says in Her high pitched annoying voice.

knowing nothing good will come out of this,
i keep staring at the ground,
she doesn’t like that
i hear Her sigh,
i can sense Her frustration.

i glance up as i see her bend over,
her glittery nails reaching to the ground,
picking up a handful of rocks.
i want to run,
but i sit,

she throws them at my back,
they feel like razor blades,
cutting deep into my soul.

bystanders do nothing,
how can they?
it’s Her.

she's the blonde haired devil,

no one stands up to Her.

                                        No one.