tattoos poked into my upper thighs read “DAD” “MOM”

i am a ghost of the girl in the photograph hanging in the same place same wall same house

i touch myself in my bedroom i think of him tonight, another tomorrow

casual ***, *******

i’m not your little girl

i’m not their little girl

i belong to no one i drift i fall

into the arms of someone who does not love me

out of the arms of DAD and MOM

i see in their eyes they worry they look into mine

measure the size of my pupils tonight wonder if i look dull cause i’ve been getting high again

or if i’ve succumbed to another bout of depression

maybe they know me at least they think they do but

how could they have me figured out

when the ?person? i am and the person i was

haven’t been acquainted since i turned from

DAD and MOM to

the things that came with being 19?

What other woman could be loved like you,
Or how of you should love possess his fill?
After the fulness of all rapture, still,—
As at the end of some deep avenue
A tender glamour of day,—there comes to view
Far in your eyes a yet more hungering thrill,—
Such fire as Love’s soul-winnowing hands distil
Even from his inmost arc of light and dew.

And as the traveller triumphs with the sun,
Glorying in heat’s mid-height, yet startide brings
Wonder new-born, and still fresh transport springs
From limpid lambent hours of day begun;—
Even so, through eyes and voice, your soul doth move
My soul with changeful light of infinite love.

Grinning scars of the wound,
carved in my flesh ,
Laughing long since the fall ,
By the edges of the crest,
not the burst of the rage,
nor the tears down the cheek ,
Little me down the curves
may not be what they seek ,

They are laughing they are yelling,
they are out to build a frame ,
Of the courage to let them laugh,
And moan out the pain,

From a old dent on the bump,
That's been smiling from a while ,
And trying to fade off the skin,
laughing a lopsided cry ,