I am from the deepest of all depths,
From the darkness of all wounds.
From the sharpest of all knives,
From the loneliness of all wombs.
I am that seven year old that spent days,
Staring outside the window, from dawn to dusk.
Waiting for her father,
Fearing the day he won’t come.
I am that little girl,
That filled her days with sleep.
Scared of the reality of being awake,
In fear of it never matching her exquisite dreams.
I am that child,
Whose lack of knowledge was blinded by optimism.
Oblivious to this world of sadness and cruelty,
Young and naïve, scared of the unknown.
I am that sixth grader,
Whose mental strength amplified from bullies.
Their non-intelligent comments and unethical remarks,
Helped seed her rage.
Slowly, she grew to be patient.
But now, I’m a senior,
And the darkness is slowly depleting.
I am no longer lonely,
Rather I am burgeoning.
Into the pulchritudinous blossom I always was.
I’m a teenager,
And my past is what molded me.
These memories will forever be buried,
Into the person I am now.