I am a child.

Will you play?

If I shut my eyes, you go away…

I too have vanished;

shuttered lids

will hide each little trusting kid.

 

I am a girl.

What do you see?

Not the bones that scaffold me.

We both will rattle into age,

hearts slowing in their

frosted cage.

 

I am a woman.

Can you see?

With veins that branch a crimson tree.

Not an empty bloodless ghost,

a midday shadow,

a mandatory dose.

 

I am a person

but I must hide

with all my colours trapped inside.

Every breath not white enough,

my skin too thin,

their hands too rough.

 

We are all human.

Open your eyes:

we share the reflection of sea and skies,

sunbrushed skin and moonlit dreams;

we are all there will be,

and are all that has been.