The Girl Holding The Cake
I don’t remember the girl holding the cake.
I wasn’t there that day.
I had gone somewhere else to spend my sorrow.
Her vapid smile may have fooled the others,
but she was no match for what awaited
in the place beyond the photo.
Eighteen years old,
guileless eyes fixed on death,
she clutches her cake
not to break
into crumbs.
I can’t remember that girl.
They tell me she was me.