Four Scrapped Girls

Sometimes it is hard to find the words to describe the complexities of girlhood, but here is my offering, nonetheless.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

I.
There were cigarette burns in her eyes
and she thought, for a second,
she was alone.
She felt the tug of your hair
under her arm and rolled
into the scent
of summer at a winter window.
The frozen cats of discontent
scratched…