Anxiety, depression, abuse,
these words mean nothing to a young girl,
Or they are not supposed to.
Yet some are shown at a young age,
they are meant to grow quickly.
To mature, care for those who are supposed to for her
Childhoods are often cut short,
Making life time kids with serious intentions.
Looking for the whisper that has eluded her for a lifetime,
She reaches out in the wrong places,
Getting burned by those who mean the world to themselves.

It seems as though the feeling that everyone overuses,
is nowhere to be found.
Yet she looks too far,
it has been in front of her, always
In the eyes of the stranger that smiles encouragingly,
In the words of her appraising teacher,
In the playful yaps of a nearby dog,
In the warmth of the hug shared by her grandparents.
It’s written on the wounds inflicted on her arms,
Burned into her heart as it beats for the new day,
Love.