What do you do they asked me
What do you mean they say
“Moments, things, memories, secret places”
Why they ask
“Because I had swallowed myself whole… I let myself rot in darkness, I let the flowers wither when I should have been in the spring of my life. I had given up, content with being bones, letting my ribs cage in my soul, become a vase for dead flowers.
So I collect what I can, smiles, flowers, museum trips, babies laughter, friends, strangers, bits of jewelry, all that I fancy. Because part of me knows that the rot will never go away… I missed the spring of my life while hiding away.
Now it is the summer, I let the sun bleach the cage but keep the wilted flowers, I will need then for when I can finally bury all that Ive been through.”
The above is a powerful, troubling piece written by my youngest daughter, Julia. I believe the picture we have of ourself is not the picture others see. If you want to talk, I want to listen.