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Photographs
Why do these photographs hurt me so?
There is a boy staring back at me.
A boy I'd rather forget.
The memory of him taunts me.
Even if he is no more.
There are familiar faces putting on wide smiles.
People I once called family.
Fond memories of people that no longer exist.
Replaced by abusers and liars.
There are items scattered about.
Artifacts of times forgotten.
Tiny pieces of comfort.
That disappeared along with my innocence.
There is a girl posing.
A cross between the boy and my own reflection.
Her fragile smile is overshadowed.
By the lack of light in her eyes.
Why do these photographs still hurt me so?
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