melted

your star wars leggings

even when i didn't see you, you were

growing

taller and taller, thinner and thinner - you hated it, the pills they made you take made you ache but you hated yourself otherwise - with embroidered rainbows across your sundress, you fly by in a shopping cart outside the restaurant, a convenience-store cleopatra.

even when i wasn't expecting it, you were

growing

into a woman, or whatever label you tag yourself with - your two partners sending affirmations through the screen, you sip green bubbles through a straw - shaved sides and shaved ice, you point out the overly confident man strutting to his too-small car as we wait, a slim supermodel.

even when i stayed off your path, you were

growing

up to the stars, your dreams - to get out, to get by, you return to the dinner table with hands folded, across the table from your father - dazzling rhinestone stars on your leggings, you pull a hood over your head, ready to face the world.

you keep growing. i'll catch up someday.