Dear Little Girl,

A poem dedicated to the little girl on December 24, 2010.

Dear Little Girl,

I wish someone told me the things I know now:

Your light will flicker from time to time
Just don’t let it extinguish.
That need to jump out of the frying pan, that urge to fly from the fire?
It dissolves into drifting smoke.

Don’t let anyone say you’re just angsty and anxious
Yeah, they’ll call you moody.
They might even say you only do things for attention.
You’ll finally tell your mom in the wee morning hours.

She’ll hold your hand while you confess every little detail,
From stepping onto the tracks, and tiptoeing to the trestle edge
And that her voice brought you back

Your light waned to a char that Christmas eve morning
Your smile did not reach those cheekbones
Your eyes barely embers
Your legs shook as you looked down

That two-inch water won’t break your fall,
Just your neck
Your heart would break to break another
Even if you wouldn’t be there to see it

But your light scintillates to a blaze
Some people tried to blow it out
But you’re a trick candle, bouncing back
For each birthday you almost skipped

You find your tinder
       (Words)
You find your spark
       (Voice)
You find your hearth
     (Purpose)

And then you don’t shut up.
You may not be laughing now, but you will be.

When you went back to the trestle, it didn’t even recognize you
Smeared cinders on your face like a warrior claiming the battleground
The water below hid its eyes from your devouring flames

You kept going because life goes on, even when you didn’t want it to.
You went on to do great things, and scribbled your signature
On those tracks in victory

Your light grows to a bonfire, then a forest fire, and no one,
Not even you, knows how to put it out
Your heart glows inside your chest
And you thank yourself for building it waterproof
Instead of flying away with the vapors of your former self

To read more about the event that inspired this poem, click the following link: Why I Decided Not To Kill Myself