Honey Fields

They call her a sullen girl.
But they don't know that she paints pink birds on the walls of her
room.
She walks with her head down, fists clenched,

don't mess with me.

She doesn't smile much.
And her eyes. Say she's not happy.

They call her a freak.
But they can't see that inside her head she's walking honey fields and
he's by her side.

By her side.

Some try to approach her.
In sixth grade Jason hit her.
She hit him back. And laughed out loud.

But now, when they call her suicidal, bulimic, whore, junkie, she
doesn't say much.

They don't know that for every name they spit at her, she paints
another pink bird on her wall.

And lives in the comfort of her head, where he's by her side, and
they're walking honey fields together.