girl (remastered)
I saw her sitting there, a younger, smaller version of me, at 9 years old, sitting on my childhood bed.
I slowly walked to her and knelt.
I took her hands in mine.
she looked up at me
and with a small voice asked, "does it get any better?" I squeezed her hands. "not for a long time. it doesn't get better for a long time."
she closed her eyes and tears streamed down her face. I let go of her hands
and placed mine around her small face.
"does anyone end up saving us?" she softly asked.
I smiled.
"yes. "I said.
she then looked at me, hopeful.
"who saves us?" she asked.
I smiled even bigger.
"we do. we save ourselves."
YOU ARE READING
VELVET SOLITUDE
Poetry"Indulge in the embrace of Velvet Solitude, where words flow like a river and emotions take flight" 🌙🌟
