When I was three I watched the clouds form around my mother,
I watched her retreat into herself.
I watched my father leave
And I became the protector.

I hardened myself. Made myself strong.
Became, all in all, an emotionless machine.
An impulsive,
Quiet,
Bitter
Little girl.
I grew up, taking care of myself.
Years flying by.
Five.
Eight.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
At thirteen I was gone. I was a shell. I was full of abandonment issues.
Full of sadness.
I let my best friend get drunk and stared into his eyes
As he raped me.
I went home after to an empty house.
And I cried as I pulled apart my skin with my nails.
That was the day, I broke.

So today, I write.
In all my sadness,
In all my hope,
Fear,
Love,
Pain,
For that little three year old girl,
Hardened and alone,
To show her the world is cruel,
But it is only as cruel as you let it be