Thirteen...

Shaanvi Rai
May 13, 2025
1 min read

I died at thirteen.

Now, stuck at that age forevermore,

A thought passed me by,

That no one notices a corpse

Till the change of seasons show on the skin.

I will forever be an object of use,

A thing so easily tossed around.

Anyone’s to claim, everyone’s to share.

The handprints forever etched

On my bones.

I will remain a rotting soul,

An impurity forever condemned

To life alone.

Shame stricken and shameful

Simply, thirteen forevermore.

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