Little girls that falter
With wonder in your hearts, be still.
Your bruises bear to change the lives.
For those that never will.
I guess the tiny parts of her that stood silent scared them. She searches for that one moment when her lungs will once again fill with air and she can finally breathe.
Carrying in her fists the moments of her life that wounded her, she wonders, if she thinks too much.
Fragments of herself float around taking up space in an otherwise lonely hallway. I wonder if she has eyes left to see? To see the wealth lying just below the skin of the filth she so proudly owns.
The bruises worn heavily on her soul bare themselves every now and then. They tell the story so few will ever understand any more than unrealistic anger. She wonders if there has ever been a time when she wasn’t filled with fear. A time when she could stand amongst the “others” and feel safe. Then again, she doesn’t really want to stand amongst them, she can’t stand amongst them. She has never been one to go unnoticed.
Self-obsessed she is, consumed by her thoughts and feelings.
“If I could give them to you, I gladly would” she said.
“I don’t really own them anyway. They visit me for such a short time, I can barely finish them.”
“Find God” Some would say…
“God doesn’t look for little girls like me. God only seeks freedom and happiness, for the wealthy, and the loved. You get the justice you can afford.”
Tiresome…
“Don’t you get tired?” I asked her.
“I wouldn’t know. I have only felt one way my whole life, perhaps it’s tired. I have nothing to compare it to. Is this all that remains for us? How do I change it? Please, I beg of someone, anyone, show me another way!”
“Where are the answers?” she asked.
“Do the answers lay in the hearts of those who are not seekers? In those who are satisfied.”
A word that sends shards of pain through my body.
“I would take all my sorrow over satisfaction, any day,” she said.
“Are you satisfied?” She asked.
I looked back at her and said…
“I don’t know, you tell me?”