Still crying after ten She’s paler then the day before Can she hear us? Does she know we’re watching her? We’re taking notes. We’re asking the hard questions.
Is she ours? Where is she from? I cannot say I recognize her face. Sure I didn’t look like that or act so strange when I was her age.
So quiet, but so much rage she broke another toy today teacher told us no one tries to play with her at recess but she doesn’t even notice
isn’t talking yet, instead she sits outside drawing symbols in the dirt Haven’t seen her walk in days but she’s always somewhere different when you turn
I think I am a changeling I was born with long dark hair, the nurse was scared, I didn’t cry but I was teething
I think I am a changeling I broke open all the eggs ‘cause I heard baby birds inside and they were screaming
So far I cannot see a family resemblance but something in her reminds me of a story I heard as a child in the dark can’t explain the milk we found under her bed, or the earthworms in her hair can’t explain the feeling I’ve forgotten some important thing somewhere…
I think I am a changeling I was born with little claws instead of nails and I was pale and barely breathing
I think I am a changeling I broke the mirror because the me who wasn’t me inside was shaking, she was seething, she was screaming
Oh, changeling you will find your home some day your friends among the fairies your family with the fae