Illustration by Mimi Mutesa @mimimutesa
I grieve for my younger self
Where did she go?
Bommai craved the days when she could build forts
only to sit in them by herself;
who made three dimensional peacocks after school
– construction paper and brass fasteners.
Chellam who read Junie B. Jones for hours on end;
who walked up the hill to play in the snow
only to get too cold.
What did she think?
What did she feel?
Did she monitor her feelings before she shared them?
I can picture her, full of joy
Where did it go?
She must have kept it to herself
And out of my reach