My Girls

The girl walks early, talks early, reaches the age of homework early, as if she is in a hurry from the very beginning, as if she never has time for herself, even her games have the color of life, she hugs her doll so innocently that it seems like years she has tasted the sweet taste of motherhood. The girl doesn't express her longing, she doesn't show her sadness, her heart breaks, there is a storm inside her, but she is silent, instead of breaking the glass and screaming, the girl just they cry. Really, girls are angels. Angels without wings.