These Are Things I Do Not Know.

To the girl
in the pink hat,
separated from her classmates who paused to let us
past. I may
have noticed the way you had no hair
and your eyelashes weren’t
there. I may
have noticed that your
face was translucent from the drugs
hurting you, the same ones that
are saving you.
I do not know you.
I probably never will. I only
know the way you looked at us
so politely.
I only know that you are beautiful
and you are brave
and I have cried
so many times
since I saw you, all in pink.
To know that you don’t know
a safe and perfect
childhood.
To know that you are scarred
and scared and hanging in there.
I do not know you.
I probably never will.
But I am feeling for you,
in every way.
And every child and adult
who is scarred and who is
scared because of
something we can only
fix sometimes.
Thank you for letting us pass, thank
you for being so beautiful,
thank you for being so brave.

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