Tied at the kitchen sink,
screams captured, by the ceiling –
photos in the sitting room tell a different story.
all that was left was a girl in a box,
buried alive, if only she’d been oxygenated.
Once a sweet peach,
everyone peered in, murmuring:
‘what happened to her?’
Wails of what they might say –
if only there was one more day,
the sun might rise – she might see it differently,