The little girl I used to be…
The memory of the little girl I used to be is starting to become more difficult to recall
What were her dreams exactly?
Was she funny?
She lives in another life that is now unreachable. The house with all the talking, the doting mother constantly getting something important done. The house was full of joy for her.
She isn’t sure the moment the comforting joy of what’s familiar became a stranger. One day it crashed down. Shattering the full memory of it all.
She exists in another lifetime that feels unreachable. She did not know that life would turn out this way. That deep grief would cast a blanket over her shortly into adulthood.
She and I are the same. The little girl loved and existed before all the fucked up shit happened. Her memory is fading from mine and I am not sure how to hold on to her
