She had spent a lifetime making herself small,

making herself quiet and small so that no one noticed her.

Being noticed meant being hit or worse.

So she buried tho impulses, the secrets parts of herself.

She didn't bury them inside of her own body.

No, in that case, it might bubble up and make her

sass back or laugh or do a half-ass job on the dishes.

It was safer to keep those things far away from herself.

And so they stayed...

Until the day came when she decided she wanted them back.

Nothing changed, not really, she just thought of how pleasant it would be

to talk, to laugh, to take up space without apologizing for it.

To not measure her body everyday to make sure that she wasn't

taking up too much space, too much food, too much existing.

She slipped a powder some kid sold her into his bottle before the nightly binge began.

She sat, quiet, still, making herself as small as possible.

She watched as his eyelids began to close. His chest stopped moving

but his breath was still barely just there. Quiet, small, still.

She took a knife and began to dig into his abdomen. It was messy

and she almost lost her dinner. But finally, she found them.

Just where she had buried them. A dandelion to grant wishes at anytime.

A puppy that would never grew old or sick. A best friend to love her always.

Kept safely in his belly, all these years, they were all her's once again.

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