Deer me, how are you? did mommy get us the dollhouse for cristmas?
Dear Inner Child, I'm... fine. Mom didn't get us the dollhouse.
Deer me, but why? does mommy not love us?
Dear Inner Child,
no, she was tired.
Deer me, but she pomised.
Dear Inner Child,
promises are lighter than the boxes she never carried in.
Deer me, I waited at the window.
Dear Inner Child,
I know. You counted every car and named them hope.
Deer me, maybe I was bad.
Dear Inner Child,
we scrubbed our hands raw and it didn’t wash the silence off her face.
Deer me, I tried to be small and quiet.
Dear Inner Child,
she liked us most when we were invisible.
Deer me, why does my chest hurt?
Dear Inner Child,
that’s where the dollhouse went.
Room by room, it rotted out your ribs.
Deer me, will she get it next year?
Dear Inner Child,
next year she will forget she ever promised.
You will remember for both of you.
Deer me, maybe she hates me.
Dear Inner Child,
no.
She just loves her emptiness more than she loves your eyes.
Deer me, I’m scared of growing up.
Dear Inner Child,
that’s when you learn
that the dollhouse was just a cheaper word for "mother".
Deer me, why is it so cold?
Dear Inner Child,
she turned the heat off when she turned her heart off.
We learned to wear shame like a sweater.
Deer me, will anyone ever knock at my door?
Dear Inner Child,
we will build a door out of locked throats and unanswered questions.
No one will know how to open it.
Deer me, am I still lovable?
Dear Inner Child,
we will chase proof in every stranger’s hands
and call it romance.
Deer me, where did my toys go?
Dear Inner Child,
she sold them for a quieter life.
We bought nightmares with the change.
Deer me, why doesn’t she hear me cry?
Dear Inner Child,
our tears fell through the floorboards.
She stepped over them like puddles in someone else’s house.
Deer me, why does the dark feel safer than the light?
Dear Inner Child,
the dark does not make promises.
It just holds you and never pretends.
Deer me, when will it stop hurting?
Dear Inner Child,
when you finally admit
that she chose herself, not you.
And even then,
the ache will only learn new names.
Deer me, what will I be when I grow up?
Dear Inner Child,
a house with no dolls,
just rooms where laughter echoes but never stays.
Deer me, will I become her?
Dear Inner Child,
we already keep our love on a high shelf.
Sometimes we forget to take it down.
Deer me, can I go back?
Dear Inner Child,
back is a locked attic.
We live there anyway.
Deer me, are you still there?
Dear Inner Child,
I hear you scratching behind the walls
when the world goes quiet.
Deer me, what if no one comes for us?
Dear Inner Child,
then we will come for ourselves,
late,
empty-handed,
learning to tuck our own hair behind our own ears.
Deer me, will you ever forgive mommy?
Dear Inner Child,
forgiveness is just wishing she had bought the dollhouse
and then finally admitting
she never knew how to build one.
Deer me, what happens now?
Dear Inner Child,
now we turn the wreckage into rooms,
paint the splinters with our blood,
and call it home.
Deer me… will you stay?
Dear Inner Child,
I am the shadow on your nursery wall.
You outgrew the nightlight,
so I grew teeth.
And I’m not leaving.
Apr 15
Apr 15, 2026 at 6:02 PM UTC
Deer me, how are you? did mommy get us the dollhouse for cristmas?
Dear Inner Child, I'm... fine. Mom didn't get us the dollhouse.
Deer me, but why? does mommy not love us?
Dear Inner Child,
no, she was tired.
Deer me, but she pomised.
Dear Inner Child,
promises are lighter than the boxes she never carried in.
Deer me, I waited at the window.
Dear Inner Child,
I know. You counted every car and named them hope.
Deer me, maybe I was bad.
Dear Inner Child,
we scrubbed our hands raw and it didn’t wash the silence off her face.
Deer me, I tried to be small and quiet.
Dear Inner Child,
she liked us most when we were invisible.
Deer me, why does my chest hurt?
Dear Inner Child,
that’s where the dollhouse went.
Room by room, it rotted out your ribs.
Deer me, will she get it next year?
Dear Inner Child,
next year she will forget she ever promised.
You will remember for both of you.
Deer me, maybe she hates me.
Dear Inner Child,
no.
She just loves her emptiness more than she loves your eyes.
Deer me, I’m scared of growing up.
Dear Inner Child,
that’s when you learn
that the dollhouse was just a cheaper word for "mother".
Deer me, why is it so cold?
Dear Inner Child,
she turned the heat off when she turned her heart off.
We learned to wear shame like a sweater.
Deer me, will anyone ever knock at my door?
Dear Inner Child,
we will build a door out of locked throats and unanswered questions.
No one will know how to open it.
Deer me, am I still lovable?
Dear Inner Child,
we will chase proof in every stranger’s hands
and call it romance.
Deer me, where did my toys go?
Dear Inner Child,
she sold them for a quieter life.
We bought nightmares with the change.
Deer me, why doesn’t she hear me cry?
Dear Inner Child,
our tears fell through the floorboards.
She stepped over them like puddles in someone else’s house.
Deer me, why does the dark feel safer than the light?
Dear Inner Child,
the dark does not make promises.
It just holds you and never pretends.
Deer me, when will it stop hurting?
Dear Inner Child,
when you finally admit
that she chose herself, not you.
And even then,
the ache will only learn new names.
Deer me, what will I be when I grow up?
Dear Inner Child,
a house with no dolls,
just rooms where laughter echoes but never stays.
Deer me, will I become her?
Dear Inner Child,
we already keep our love on a high shelf.
Sometimes we forget to take it down.
Deer me, can I go back?
Dear Inner Child,
back is a locked attic.
We live there anyway.
Deer me, are you still there?
Dear Inner Child,
I hear you scratching behind the walls
when the world goes quiet.
Deer me, what if no one comes for us?
Dear Inner Child,
then we will come for ourselves,
late,
empty-handed,
learning to tuck our own hair behind our own ears.
Deer me, will you ever forgive mommy?
Dear Inner Child,
forgiveness is just wishing she had bought the dollhouse
and then finally admitting
she never knew how to build one.
Deer me, what happens now?
Dear Inner Child,
now we turn the wreckage into rooms,
paint the splinters with our blood,
and call it home.
Deer me… will you stay?
Dear Inner Child,
I am the shadow on your nursery wall.
You outgrew the nightlight,
so I grew teeth.
And I’m not leaving.
This piece is a dialogue between your present self and your inner child, using the “dollhouse” as a symbol for the care, safety, and consistency children often long for but didn’t always receive. It explores how a single broken promise can grow into lifelong patterns of hurt, and what it means to finally turn back toward that younger self and choose them when no one else did.
