Monday, April 13, 2015

in an old house in Paris that was covered in vines
lived twelve little girls............ no wait. no. nonono.
that was thirty years ago, at least.
why does it still sound so.. so clear?
still remember the girls. the loud one, what was her name.. maggie
little sylvie looks just like her, with the pout and the bunny.
bye mama
bye girls
they won't be gone forever,
only a few weeks
bye mama!
bye sweetie
seems like forever. always does. always has.
love you mama 
see you soon mother
don't forget us, mother
yes, ma. you're so prone to it
ha. if only i forgot you girls
i would sooner die
we know, ma
you know we're only teasing
living in this house for over thirty years
she was a schoolgirl in this house. a teenager. an adult.
she took over this house, when no one else would
she took the girls in, when no one else would.
love you, girls
they don't say it out loud. no one ever dares.
everyone knows, though.
the world did not want them. nobody needed them.
there was a reason they all grew up here. they knew.
she took them in.
she wanted them
she fed them, raised them.
thanks for everything, mother.
really. everything.
thank you mama
love you mama!
no one speaks of it.
they've got each other, they need no one else.

these are the seventh group
she knows they will be alright.
they're tough. they are fighters.
they are survivors.
my girls.