grow up, child

i wonder if this is the best version 

of myself. what could have been 

and what never will be. the things 

meant to be and the things that

are. was it worth it? 

i ask the girl in the mirror. 

maybe, maybe, maybe, she says. 

but i am alive. what else 

can you do but try to 

make something  

beautiful 

out of the blood on your hands? 

every birthday is a funeral. you know this, 

she says, and one day you will kill me too. 

she says, i forgive you. i forgive you. 

i hope you will be happier for it.