Hello.
It is me.
The girl who bought ice cream one summer,
who stared at a lady bird
in disgust and fear,
and fascination.
Who drew dirty pictures of the boy
I liked from school,
who sang along to Lucky by Britney Spears,
in blissful ignorance, and
confusion.
*
It is me,
the girl who watched her mother bleed,
cry behind her sunglasses,
who hung off the climbing frame like a sloth
and waited long past
home time to go home.
*
It is me,
the girl who without fail, cut her toe
every time,
running from the outdoor pool in Victoria Park,
and refused to wear shoes,
the girl who had a strange feeling down there,
and made secrets
when she was alone,
the girl who questioned the existence of God,
with God,
late at night.
*
It is me,
the girl who wished for a bike, and kept riding,
when she couldn't,
until by sheer coincidence,
it seemed she knew how.
Who choked on the ball of cat hair, and
cuddled it closer,
and held it above a flushing toilet,
amused, for some reason.
It is me,
the girl who had hair more alien than
her voice,
who cried in front of the mirror and
stole her brothers weights
to get ready for a fight
that never happened.
Who started writing, and exploring
with make up, and food,
and mums thongs.
*
I am the girl who visited Henry the eighth's house
dressed as bugs bunny,
and hid in the house trees
with her brother,
and is probably still
there with him.
But now wearing different clothes,
in different rooms.
*
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