I Cannot Forgive the Little Girl.

I don't think I'm actually healing.
I just walk around with the ashes of a little girl in a jar,
And I claim that she is somewhere better,
Somewhere safer,
And that she's okay.
When in reality,
She is locked within my bones.
How much she cries daily sickens me.
Those ashes are just a piece of her,
But her heart stills beats a broken tune.
She begs for me to love her,
But I cut her,
And tell her that I hate her.
When I do try to mend her wounds,
They are cut so far down through the bone,
I vomit when I feel them.
So, I abandon her, like everyone else did,
And let her sob in agony.