Maybe I was the little girl who waited for you in the alleys,

waiting to be asked about my days,

waiting to be asked if anyone had hurt me,

or if I was happy.

Maybe I was the little girl who waited for praise

I tried so hard to earn.

Who waited for an apology

for being left alone without knowing.

Who waited for your caress,

Before waking up to another day,

That still, frighten me.

Who waited to be put first, before yourself.

Who waited to stop being someone

you despised, for no reason.

And now you beg me to show you love?

A love you never taught me how to give.

What kind of emotion am I meant to show?

What kind of love must be performed

for someone who was out of love

long before?