Is there justice in this world?

I read a story about a little girl

in between the daily wanton updates

and i can't forget her.

I think about her in the shower,

the way they gently put socks on her feet and held her.

I think about her on my commute,

the way she stood still and shook and didn't smile, play, or eat.

I think about her while I laugh with my friends,

the way my belly feels full and fat and not hollow and bruised.

and when I change my little one, i think of her

her own soft, plump body

moving and bouncing

with uncontrollable giggles

and i don't let her go

not even from a simple hug

wondering if my locking arms could be strong enough

to seal the innocence

behind the fat walls of her cheeks

to reach through time and hold

a little girl alone without a mother's arms, only pain

a child who witnessed that love could look like this

and i hold her tighter.

be strong.

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