I created a girl
From word and lines
From paragraphs.

With characters, I shaped her face
Her long dark hair
Gold eyes
Her strength
And the inevitable weakness
We share.
I learned to love her
As a daughter, for she is mine
From my own hands
From my own heart and head
A product of a story
That needed to be told.

I loved her, and she taught me
Through her own struggles
Her own losses
That it is possible to move forward
After the end of the world
Ice will thaw and spring will follow the winter
Bodies return to the earth and feed the flowers
And love is never lost,
Only tucked away into a small pocket
Somewhere in the mysterious red ***** in our chests
Where it takes shape as another
More bearable appreciation
One that is not all flowers and lore
Or clammy hands and starry eyes.

If she can move on, when beauty seems withered
Than I will follow her steps
Beyond the last page
And walk out of that story
Back into my own
Where you and I will always occupy
A small page some place
A few sentences that had to end
To form a paragraph.

Or a Poem.