Between Bruises & Blooms

After everything,

I kept pulling
The Star.

People smiled.

Said it meant
hope.

Healing.

Peace.

I smiled too.

But secretly

I wondered
if she was there.

A little girl
who only lived
three and a half hours

finding ways
to tell her mother

“I’m still shining.”

Now,
every time
The Star appears,

I stop asking
what it means.

I simply whisper,

“Hi, sweetheart.”