authors note: I wrote this while crying lol. its pretty shitty but it means a lot to me

This poem is for a girl who cries at the moon,
and tells her brothers not to worry
when a plane sounds too close overhead.

who yearns for someone to brush her hair,
who needs a rag to dry her hands of blood
and little apologies that seem to have
built up resistance to her little fixes.

whose braids reach the floor, she’s
too afraid to sever herself from her own.
who wears the same necklace each day. It has
no significance, but she tells herself it could.

who notes the street light reflect
on another’s collarbone, who curses the world
for an unwanted thought, that to which ancestors still flock.

who dwells by a wishing pond, and who hopes
someone hears the wish through the scam
of children and victims.