Serial Killer

It’s been fifteen years since I’ve seen my most prized possession.
I thought I’d still have it,
But while I wasn’t paying attention
Life, as is its wont, stole it away from me.

I thought it would be mine to do with as I pleased.
How many times have I wasted it,
Flaunted it, gave it away for free ~
Acted as though it would be mine to keep forever?

Each year, something else has been stolen.
First, my body, which was never returned.
Then my freedom, my energy, and my sense of self
Were all disposed of in rapid succession.

With marriage,
Then motherhood,
The me that used to be
Has slowly and surreptitiously disappeared.

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