I am the patron saint of abandoned little girls;
made of porcelain am I
(so beautiful. That you bronze.)
I am the patron saint of little girls who loved hurtful boys;
I am the only little girl
who has died
and come back and say it this way.
God is chasing me,
and bending me down
(me and my flexible lower back).
I am the patron saint of little girls
who run faster
when they are being chased.