Dear, To, Me.

Dear,
The three year old girl who talked to the spirit in the tree.
The five year old ballerina.
The eight year old activist.
The ten year old horseback rider.
The twelve year old singer.
The thirteen year old thespian.
The sixteen year old techie.
The endless dreamer, writer, artist.

To,
The girl who...
Smiled for the cameras.
Jumped for the gold.
Fought 'til the end.
Twirled for the videos.
Turned "it" on for the judges.
Stood shoulder to shoulder with Ed McMahon.
Scribbled under the stars.
Danced for Mickey Mouse.
Read under the covers.
Sang for anyone who would listen.
Loved until it hurt.

You are me.
But I am
Not you
Anymore.
Time has shredded,
Broken,
Smashed
You.
And you grabbed up your duct tape and super glue,
And put me together.
I may have some seams and scars,
But I'm okay.
Embrace you.
Revel in the fact that you are you.
Know that
With a little tape
And a little glue
Everything will be alright.

Me.