Paper Craniums

We draw our skulls on the paper. Cartoon effigies of conversations we once had. Lips howling like fire engines rushing to save what is already dead.

My hand tracing the lines in my head. To see what it won't show me. Shuddering outlines pretend to measure how deep that abyss goes. There's just never reason enough to argue with those internal voices as they scold.

They've always been right. I just don't want to hear them anymore. They've never been wrong, but I don't care.

It's not as though I'm Cinderella. Those glass slippers just crack when I stand. Bloody heels, not so attractive. Those pumpkins take me to parties where no one dances. And fairy godmother's always have so many problems of their own.

So I let them leave. Because I never expected they would choose to stay. And I count the steps from there to here. Telling myself I've gone far enough. That I should know how much I've overcome. Just that I can still say I love them.

Because it was never about me.