That nagging feeling that something is missing. All limbs accounted for. I’m at a loss. Searching high and low.
I felt increasingly as if someone was watching me as I ran around in a panic looking for this unknown piece.
It must be either a necessity or a beloved something. It’s bound to be in the last place I would think to look.

I couldn’t find good suspects inside so wandered about my property. There was an old tree I loved as a child.
It has a hollow that sparked something in me, a glimpse backwards to a young girl very frightened and disturbed.
I reached in and found a small, pristine kitchen knife, an obscene relic never used that gave comfort just being.

Ghosts surround me now. They torture me, dancing their devil steps toward me as I remember. I remember. I remember.
I have found what I what I was searching for. The unknown piece has fought its way from oblivion, refusing to stay quiet.
I  shout the unspeakable, the tree my witness and my solace. With tears of strength, I say “R.I.P.” to the little girl lost but found.