I feel her sometimes -
the echo of who I used to be.
Withdrawing into herself,
numbing her world down,
Refusing to feel,
to see,
to speak,
She felt unheard,
No I felt unheard.
She felt Unwanted
She felt unneeded.

I speak of her as if
she were someone else,
But she's me.
I am her or rather, who I became.

I used to judge her harshly,
Ashame to think
I was once her.

Now, I look at her and see her strength.
She molded herself, built walls to protect the little girl,
She fought to keep a part of me alive
To keep us afloat, to survive.

Those walls so high, so unyielding-
Shielded the parts of me.
They hid who we truly are.
She was strong. She is strong

And now when I looks at
her,
I feel pride.

I want her to feel safe.
Because as high as those
Steel walls rise,
Our inner child cries for freedom-
To be born again,
To let her imagination run wild,
To dance in the light of life

She wants out.
She screams to be seen
To be heard
To be loved.

So, we learn to coexist
We give each othe space -
To feel, to fight , to create.
Because we are one
We are whole.
And each part of us plays
It's role.

I'm learning now:
My words are not dead.
They are waiting-
Waiting to be born.