They got it wrong. It’s the good girls who suffer. The bad girls jumped ship long ago. The good girls stayed with the crew and we are going under.
The bad girls? They swam to freedom. Long gone.
Your eyes – still here – on the page – are with me. You are the good girl : the loyal friend, here to see it through: the lone ranger, the archangel Michelle.
Except you can see no way through – just a maze of directions, tunnels, hours and hurdles of how much better you could have been. How much better you want to be.
There is a voice in there that beats a drum: there is a rhythm
You could do better.
This voice. This urge. Is powerful.
This call. This demand. This mandate
speaks from somewhere deep.
Can you remember a time when this insistence Did. Not. Exist?
Put on face paint. Leap out your window. Hit the grass and run. Roll on your back. Play with the dogs.
For a moment – when you have broken free. Stay still and listen. Be kind. Be gentle. And ask:
Who speaks? This tape – an audible recording born of a wonder child who saw so much. Felt so much. Understood that she herself – and she alone – could set her family free.
You are no longer she.
You are older now. Comfort her.
Hold her close and whisper
in her ear.
“You are well. Love. You are enough.”
Be this child. Feel her love. There is an open field in your heart. Comfort her. Oh love. Let her feel
your love is greater than the hurt.