Although familiar, my face never adorned a poster taped to a lamp post or a shop window. Nobody looked for me. Forgotten long ago – my absence did not leave a hole in the World. Hands had been washed of me. My foot prints disturbed by the wind.
Violence my only human contact. The greatest care taken to remove me. Nobody looked for me. Dirt to dirt. I have left my mark in the mud-cocooned by the dark. The naked trees – silent witnesses to my features long since disappeared.
Bare bones speak my truth. They announce who I am and whisper the long list of traumas I endured before I stopped fighting back. Like photos in an album- my story is etched on me. Nobody looked for me. Can you see me now?
Do not forget us. We are out here waiting to be found.