i just can’t leave her. no i cannot abandon,
the little girl who’s under my flesh, deep below.
she’s a ghost of someone, someone oddly familiar,
someone i'm sure...
i’m supposed to know.
i feel every throbbing ache from her falling tears,
as they seep into my blood.
thinning it more everyday as they flow.
that must be why the cuts on my soul just keep bleeding,
it must be why my bodies healing is so slow.
now one touch to my skin and deeply, i’ll bruise,
where shades of deep purple and red, begin to show.
see her home is made of my body, but i’m the one who compensates.
my mind pays the rent to all the times she’s been alone.
and no matter how tired i am, she begs me to just keep moving,
every ounce of what i could be,
she owns.
my heart pangs with an ache, and one for my freedom.
my body feels like it’s burning with each step down this road.
my soul cramping and sore, with this misery i feel of hers.
and all of me, slowly garnished to pay the debts,
her father owes.
my body working overtime, on a minimum wage…
as my heart labors to reap the loneliness that,
her mother sowed.
i feel this little girl’s presence in everything i do.
in every time i can’t trust, or in every place i’m afraid to go.
i can’t rid her from my body, she festers far too deep.
it’s as if she is a part of who i am... i suppose.
she’s a part of me, but a version i once was.
a young girl, with a tear-stained face, and red nose.
where she’s standing in front of her father,
as she’s experiencing the moment, where she gained the reason why she hates,
the snow.
the snow that feels as cold as he does,
and all his hurtful words, that she’ll end up never forgetting.
the day he set her fear and solitude in stone.
this girl is the ghost of my naive trust,
and the love without fear that i had to give,
her solitary ache, is what my body labors to atone.
this is the girl who learned that no one will ever care,
this is the little girl who’s father told her about the “two ways of a phone”.
it seems i do know her after all, and all too well at that.
she’s someone that i always have known.
this little girl that hides within,
the very crypts of my soul…
is the eight year old little me, that lives buried and riddled in my bones.