23

Fragments of memory
A toddler, a lamp
Purple overalls
His hands were damp

Four years old
Four can’t understand
The damage that can be done
With a closed door and one hand

First panic attack
A room full of boxes
Still four years old
Counting fingers and losses

Six years old still can’t understand
The noises in her brain
The fear and fascination 
She has with pain

Six wants to die
She’s always sad
She says maybe never being born
Wouldn’t have been so bad

Seventeen still finds depression
And anxiety like the smoke
Of a slow burning fire
From secrets never spoke

He’s been dead seven years
But seventeen wonders why
He got to die and she was
Left here behind

Twenty three still can’t understand
Why he was allowed to pursue
Why he was able to hurt so many
What it was that she went through 

Why so many endure what she did
Why there’s so much evil here
Why so many are damaged 
Before their kindergarten year

But twenty three knows good
And twenty three sees hope
And twenty three heals and
Twenty three can cope

And to every child who was hurt
Please hear this plea;
Please don’t give up
Before you turn twenty three 

“It gets better” is cliché
But cliché because it’s true
Look at the stars and breathe in;
Breathe out and know I believe you