Girl.

They said girl and I smiled.

Then I cried for three days straight.  The kind of cry that makes you feel empty, but I wasn't.  

They said girl, and they saw bows and glitter and promise.

 I saw death.  All pink and almost.

They said girl and they said beautiful.  And captivating.  And overdue.  Like tragedy.

Girl, and I said maybe.  But probably not. 

They said girl and I wanted to run.

 Jump.  Scream.  Twirl.  Vomit.

Girl, and I couldn’t breathe, held my heart to the sky, closed my eyes on the high wire.

They said girl, and I say Is she there?  Are you sure?  and  What about now?

Girl, but for how long?

I watch her move.  And she carries me from room to room, and my feet never touch the ground.   

And every time she opens her eyes I am wrong, in the best way.

They said girl, and now there’s a dream in my living room.

Girl, and she is perfection.  And peril. 

And mine.