There was a child went fourth every day,
And the first object she looked upon,
that object she became,
And that object became part of her for the day
or a certain part of the day,
Or for many years,
or stretching cycles of years.

The crisp falling autumn leaves became part of this child.
And a dark haired role model,
three years her senior,
Miniscule dolls of perfection,
of whom she’d then wish to become.
And her mother’s comforting laugh
and her father’s loving warmth.
The laughter and multiple kindergarten crushes, all became part of her.

The documents that separated love became part of her.
And the transition
to change
and separate families
Boxes filled to the top,
and labeled
according to where they belonged,
But knowing that they belonged
back where they started.
And two new stranger sisters
from another mother,
and a baby boy from another father,
And a family that was once whole,
was now split in two, all became part of her.

The sight of her sister breaking down became part of her.
And the tiny injection scars
in her role model’s forearms.
Seeing the role model’s footsteps
she once wished to fill,
fade away.
Watching the monster of heroin
steal this girl away from her.
And the multiple months that passed
with no communication
between them.
And the sight of trust in a family disappear, all became part of her.

The wet,

dense,


deep water,



became part of her.
And diving into the water with out a care in the world
And the adrenaline that swam through her veins,

as she raced through the water.
And the way she could forget about everything,

everyone,


the second she hit the water.
The way the water was her therapy,

all became part of her.

The lack of care and worry became part of this child.
And the burn
from the sun
hitting the microscope
she was put under,
The need to become what was demanded,
but was not capable.
And the happy role she was chosen to play,
with a terrifying cast.
And the band aids that wore off
when she realized how weak she was.
And the struggle to stay strong,
when everyone was holding her down.
The bad reputation that led her to leave, all became part of her.

The site of a new cast became part of this child.
And the chance to write her own role,
starting with a blank sheet of paper.
And the butterflies tickling her insides,
as she stepped into the building.
And the reassuring feeling of nobody knowing her story,
who she was,


or once was.
And being able to throw away her mask,
Because she no longer had to fake the smile
that once laid across her face.

The reality of life being cut too short became part of her.
And seeing the strongest man she knew,
begin to fall
And watching the light go out in his eyes,
and fade in everyone else’s.
And feeling her father’s loving warmth,

turn into a frightened chill.
And realizing that his once hummed melody,

will now only be told in stories,


and no longer in reality.
The feeling of the presence of his ghost,
and only his ghost’s presence, all became part of her.

The reappearance of happiness became part of this child.
And hearing her laugh,

a real laugh,
that hadn’t been heard in quite sometime.
And making new friends,



learning new things from new experiences.
And the smile that lit her face,

the second she saw her best friend and boyfriend.
And knowing that everything,

was finally going to be okay.
These all became part of her.

These became part of that child,
who went forth every day.
And now goes,
and will always go forth every day.