I remember when my hair was full of knots and my knees stained with dirt. And when I spoke, my words were of questions full of wonder bubbling out of tiny rose lips. The heart I held within was as trusting as a delicate porcelain teacup. I wandered through thickets of weeds and sang myself lullabies entangled with fairytales. My world was delicious like homemade lemonade on a summer day. I never ran away when met with danger, my curiosity led me over unsteady hills and through exposed construction zones. Always was I ready for the unknown, charging to the depths of no return.
Oh how I loved when the wind rustled the leaves furiously, while teasing my balance, as I would pretend to tightrope across papery plywood as high as the stars. Always barefoot with holes in my heels from rusty nails that had punctured my pink skin.
As a blooming adult I hid behind my hair and retreated inside my shell like a crab on the sand. Twisted inward like an inside out tee-shirt. I had made a home in my shell, full of soft blankets and flickering tea lights. Id stay there until my thoughts were interrupted by human presence. I wore a mask that told a story which I was not familiar with. The freedom I held as a child was gone. I trapped myself in my own limited boundaries, afraid to walk away from my only drop of security. I've lived this way ever so. And so, I live in a tiny one windowed room where I watch the world outside pass me by. Where did the little girl go, who had once chased the world in dresses made of poppies. And ran barefoot through abandoned houses haunted with feathery ghosts. The girl who was out climbing mountains before the sun was at its peak and who slid down the banisters without holding on.
Where did she go? Where did she go?
Where did my fearless girl go.....
