When I was young,

I used to climb to the top of a tree.

Alone, I felt at peace–

Safe.

From there, I could see water, land, and more trees.

I could also dream.

I wish I could remember what I dreamed about.

My mother took a picture of me in that tree–

Me, with my permed hair and bright eye shadow.

I wanted to look like the other girls–

To fit in.

It didn’t work.

It never worked.

I’m not sure why she took that picture.

Maybe she thought I was cute.

Maybe she admired my climbing ability.

Maybe..

She wished..

She could climb a tree, too.

And be alone.

At peace.

Safe.