I’m young.
Young but close to it.
The final year.
The end.
Well, hopefully.
I love seeing her smile more. She’s beautiful when she does.
Even when she spends hours in front of the mirror never thinking it and wishing it never happened.
And my bitter thoughts fill the room as I also wish that.
We’re her children.
Can she really change?
Do you know that aching feeling in your chest, that surge of lost hope, the overwhelming fear?
It fills my heart as I chant in mind, “Please, please stay like this, just for a little longer.”
You know, I only stayed for them.
I hope they forget it all.
Hope they forget the days confined, gold in her eyes as she moves with terror in her step, scratches on our cheeks, noisy stomachs and quiet voices.
All because of her lousy choices.
And all I can do is stare as I replay the consequences.
Grew up too fast, hoping that a single moment of peace would last a second more.
Look into the mirror and not her eyes.
The bones that stick out and the tired lies.
I hope she’s in peace.
Please.
Just for a moment more.
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