Her
Her
Her
Her

You want to see her in a pretty dress
That restricts the ribs, the lungs
Like my makeshift chest binder from years back

Her in a sparkly tiara
That weighs down the head
And makes me look
down
         down

Down at her shoes
High-heeled and floral
In which I stumble

In her father-daughter dance
Where he smiles bright
At his brilliant, beautiful-

Her blowing out the candles
Wishing for
...

I've only ever wished to rid of her,
And now here I am hidden behind these candles
In this dance,
Shoes,
Tiara,
Dress,
Body,

Her.