Hello, there, I whisper
The windowpane grows foggy with my breath, swallowing up the once crystal-clear glass
On the other side, I see her.
She is building with Lincoln Logs, imagining whole worlds in her little head
My, how you have changed
Oh, little one:
If only I could walk in your footsteps once more.
Ah, to be my younger self
The one with such big dreams
The one who saw the weeds for their lavender blossoms rather than their spiky bristles
The one who believed in herself, who would twirl around repeating
“I am beautiful”
How we have changed, my love
That girl lies dormant now, smothered by her insecurities, self-hatred, anxiety
Although, I suppose that she could never truly be gone
For the mocking jays carry with them the sound of her laughter, the intonations of her voice
The tall, slender aspen trees, carved with the initials of she and her love
The doorknob to her home, worn down as she enters and exits the door of life
Her footprints left in the mud, solidifying her shoe print into the earth; that is until the sand of time blows over it, once again concealing her journey
But now, I stand here, no longer the girl I once was.
A distorted reflection of her
My, how we have grown.
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