I touched the blossom

And the petal fell into my palm.

Soft, fragile.

A tiny hint of color.

It could not be restored

It and the blossom, would never be the same.

Innocence in my hand.

Was it mine?

I was the blossom.

It happened again. Every week when they drop me off, I hope that it won’t. It does every time though. I am 12 years old now, I think I am old enough to stay at home for a couple of hours during the day by myself. But Mom and Dad don’t think I am responsible. Whatever that means. I can be good, and I try. I guess I am not good enough for them to think I am responsible and they keep making me go.

I just close my eyes now and think about what it will be like when I am grown up.…

How did I make it this far?

I sat back, and I watched.

Others who were happy

People who were loved.

Those who had support.

I had none.

I had no one.

Alone, adrift in a world of darkness.

Secrets kept

Because no one heard

No one listened,

No one cared,

No one believed.

There was no one to teach me how to cope

Or what it meant to feel safe and secure.

I had only me

It had to be…

Simple joys for others

Evade me

Struggles through the days

Worries on my shoulders

Fear in my heart

Doubt in my mind.

What if…

The question haunts.

What if it hadn’t happened?

What if I had siblings?

Different parents?

What if…

There is someone out there to love me?

Happiness can be mine?

What if…

I am fooling myself.

Placid morning, smooth glass lake

Hiding life below the surface.

Mirrors of the skies,

Ripples distorting lies.

Untold secrets lie on the sandy bottom,

Unkissed by the sun

Never feeling its warmth.

This used to be my world

Cold and silent

Alone and isolated.

Never sharing the things inside.

You broke the waters

Dove in deep and brought me the heat

Passions awakened for living

Life became a new…