Girlhood ran its course. I felt summer turn into something that felt like a Monday. Late night laughter and messy cartwheels under cherry sunsets reached out for a final goodbye before the curtain fell. Now I rest under the moonlight and see the silhouette of my old self roam down south street. I think about who she was and what she feared and all the things she didn’t need to understand. Before anger bled through with the changing seasons and sadness screamed loudly and often- I was just a girl. I remember her gaze and how it meant everything until it turned to nothing. Sitting outside in the rainstorm because nothing can hurt you until you let it. She had a taste of girlhood and that was sweet enough. That took guts to let go of. That was the worst part of reckoning. Making a truce with the world doesn’t count if you cross your fingers behind your back, right? I may have shed my skin entirely- crawled away to lick my wounds. Retreated to the silence in it all- but I’ve left pieces of me everywhere. I’m all over this town. I’m draped across the trees. I die every season with the leaves and burst from rotting soil like I never left it. A part of me is still cutting my teeth against the pavement, rising like a fucking Phoenix in knowing that the fire was mine all along. Girlhood will always be magical. Always taken for granted. Always scoffed at. Always deserving. Always remembered. Always loud and bold and everything in between. Always a fucking tragedy. Always burning. Always me. -AMT©️