Lying curled up on broken concrete under an aging spirit house, I wondered, “How on earth did I get here?”
Last week, one of my girls asked me, “Mama, what are you afraid of?” And my thoughts crystallized.
It is impossible to give her stolen childhood back, but thanks to your love and support, we could grant her a secret wish…
If only the sternum came equipped with a zipper, stepping out of the red-light district, I would have gladly unzipped my chest and shaken off my skin.
My girl, she ran. A wounded woman-child, more afraid of being loved than used, ran from the light and tried to find her own way in the dark.