Nobody Told Me

A young girl died today on an icy stretch of highway.
Fourteen.
Two Christmases ago she signed her name on my bedroom wall.
Today her body was hauled from the metal wreckage that used to drive her to school.
My little brother's classmate.
We'll be weeping over her beauty for years.

A young woman came to me again today, bloodied and bruised, and asked if I had any more peroxide.
Nineteen.
Over the past three months she's emptied two first aid kits from my bedroom.
The lawyer that beats and fucks her is rich and has a finance two time zones away.
Black eyes and the purple rings on her neck.
I'll be weeping over her ugliness for years.

Nobody told me there'd be days like these.