poem six: once upon a time

There was a quiet girl, though
she wasn’t always quiet, born
full of sound, her first wails
in the night shushed by turns
with shaking and soothing
but soon the noise formed
into words, she put meaning
to the music of the world,
needed to hear and be heard.

But the world picks and chooses
and nothing’s quite as useless
as a little girl who sings
with the ducks and killdeer on her own
making up stories in her head.
She couldn’t stop if she wanted
though the shaking became slaps
and kicks, still no one listened
only heard when it suited them.

Eventually someone came along
with the same kind of broken heart as hers
and he put their love into music with words
like a secret, and if none of it was true,
she still believed it, and even now doesn’t
want to let go of the feeling
it gave her (no one had ever done
anything quite like that before,
so she will always be grateful).

Sorry.
There’s no happily ever after.
In fact,
I don’t know how the story ends.

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