By Valerie Negrin

Elizabeth Negrin


I wish I knew what made you laugh

And what it sounded like

But I am limited to pictures

Creating a story in each picture I see

I try to imagine what happened before

What led up to the photo

Immerse myself into a world I will never know

To be at your wedding and watch you smile at him

To see how happy he was with you

I want to know the little things

What toothpaste you used

What chair you liked to sit in

How you chose your pack of cigarettes

Taking drags without thinking

What did you eat for breakfast that day?

What was going through your mind

That day when it ended


The smoke of your cigarette

Traveling from your lungs to your lips

Left your body as a warm cloud

And took you with it





They say I'm too young to know things

Too young to be able to know what's right from wrong

Too young to make my own decisions

Then how come I am not

Too young

To be catcalled on the streets

Too young

To understand that I am no longer safe to walk alone at night

How come

I feel the need to cover myself up when I walk in a room

Of grown men


I am no longer a child