Sometimes I wish to go back as the woman I am now
And revisit a younger self.
A memory surfaces sometimes how someone older
Did this very thing for someone younger than they were
Years ago I learned how to not cry
Or at best
By reflex I hid my face
If tears did fall.
I hated the way my eyes looked
And swollen mouth.
A 15 year old very awkward
Unpopular me
Sat with Monica the student body president.
The cheerleader
of all people was my friend.
She claimed she
wanted someone who didn't care about all that.
After all these years I believe her.
So we sat in the parking lot at the mall
In her 65 mustang.
The shopping mall
Where girlfriends went to gossip
Or in our case confess secrets.
One brought tears for me
And a barricade of my hands
And hair
Obscured my face
She took my hands down
And held my face up by the chin
To say
"I always wanted lips like yours"
She did not say "You're ugly"
Or "You have no reason to cry"
She just told me
I was beautiful as if commenting on the weather
And drove me home stunned.
I never saw my face the same way
After that day.
What a few words can do
To heal someone...
Why do others choose to
Use words to do so much harm.
When it takes so few to be co-creative
Building each other up.
