Feb 2018
When I was a little girl, and I would fall, my mother would pick me up, clean up my wounds, cover them with a bandage, after kissing them softly. She would wipe away my tears, hug me tightly and tell me: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
When I was a little girl, I had a lot of headaches, and I would cry and scream in pain. My mother would carry my burning body, tuck me into bed, ****** my forehead, sing quietly in my ear and tell me in whisper: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
When I was a little girl, and I’d lose another friend, I would question my worthiness in tears. My mother would hold me close to her heart, so I could hear the beating of her love. She would leave a precious kiss on my salty cheek and tell me: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
What did I do to lose her love? Was it when I started hating everything about me, sniffing loudly in my room over the way I hated my body and the pain the world brings to everyone who isn’t strong enough to not bruise by falling?
What did I do to lose her love? Was I annoying her with my endless screams over the pain I felt piercing in my forehead, leaving her to carry my heavy body to bed and sing quietly in my ear as I fell asleep in her weakening arms, forcing her to whisper?
What did I do to lose her love? Was she realising she should leave me too, after the 7th best friend left in the end of middle school, as I questioned my worthiness in tears, forcing her arms to hold me close to her heart, so I could hear the fading beating of her love?
Sometimes I miss her love. When she finds me in my room crying over the way I hate my body, telling her; ‘I just watched a sad movie’. She closes the door leaving me, wishing for somebody to hug me tightly and tell me: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
Sometimes I miss her love. When I have a headache and she tells me to sleep it away. I tuck myself into bed, wetting my pillow in salty water from my eyes, singing to myself, wishing for somebody to tell me in whisper: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
Sometimes I miss her love. When I stumble into the living room, questioning my worthiness in tears, after losing another friend, holding a hand close to my heart, wishing for somebody to leave a precious kiss on my cheek and tell me: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
When I was a little girl, I had a lot of headaches, and I would cry and scream in pain. My mother would carry my burning body, tuck me into bed, ****** my forehead, sing quietly in my ear and tell me in whisper: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
When I was a little girl, and I’d lose another friend, I would question my worthiness in tears. My mother would hold me close to her heart, so I could hear the beating of her love. She would leave a precious kiss on my salty cheek and tell me: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
What did I do to lose her love? Was it when I started hating everything about me, sniffing loudly in my room over the way I hated my body and the pain the world brings to everyone who isn’t strong enough to not bruise by falling?
What did I do to lose her love? Was I annoying her with my endless screams over the pain I felt piercing in my forehead, leaving her to carry my heavy body to bed and sing quietly in my ear as I fell asleep in her weakening arms, forcing her to whisper?
What did I do to lose her love? Was she realising she should leave me too, after the 7th best friend left in the end of middle school, as I questioned my worthiness in tears, forcing her arms to hold me close to her heart, so I could hear the fading beating of her love?
Sometimes I miss her love. When she finds me in my room crying over the way I hate my body, telling her; ‘I just watched a sad movie’. She closes the door leaving me, wishing for somebody to hug me tightly and tell me: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
Sometimes I miss her love. When I have a headache and she tells me to sleep it away. I tuck myself into bed, wetting my pillow in salty water from my eyes, singing to myself, wishing for somebody to tell me in whisper: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
Sometimes I miss her love. When I stumble into the living room, questioning my worthiness in tears, after losing another friend, holding a hand close to my heart, wishing for somebody to leave a precious kiss on my cheek and tell me: “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.”
