When I was born
I was such a pretty little girl.
I remember I was covered
From head to toe in tiny lights.
Thousands of them.
So pretty I shone.
Like an illuminated
Christmas tree.
Then as I became older.
I learned how to lie.
Mom I have done my work.
A light went out.
Mom there won’t be any alcohol there.
A group of lights faded.
Mom I did not sleep with him.
A whole branch darkened.
It’s OK Dad I will never do drugs.
The lights all dimmed.
Now I am older.
I walk the rainy city streets
In the night.
I see my jaded reflection
gaunt and sad in the mirrors
of the shop windows.
All my pretty lights
have extinguished.
Except if you look closely just a few
Are Still trying to glimmer
Against all possible odds.
Even after all my self harm.
They are around my heart.