There's a picture of me as a child, a big gap-toothed smile and hair golden in the sun which is somewhere behind me and giving me a warm halo, white flowing dress, pure joy on my face.I look at that picture and wonder what happened to her. Poor thing; she had no idea what life would turn out to be. Where are you now, little girl? Not this woman with icicles in her veins and thin white lines tracing her arms, scars of inner battles, dark circles under the eyes.
If I could, I'd cry for you.
Are you somewhere where you'd hear me?
