It all bled and bled and bled.

The hurt. The abandonment. The truth. The metaphors. 

It all bled.

It all bled so vicious and dark,
That I started wondering if my bitterness
started staining the crimson of my blood.
And painted it a stark black,
As I picked apart all that I lack.

And I bled and bled and bled like
The never-ending torture 
Of birth and death.

You put me
“In my place.”
But really.
You misplaced me.
You seem to forget who I am
And where on your shelf I should go.

I used to belong to your collection of important things.
But you put me on the bottom in a box titled “Miscellaneous”
I’m not used to being down here.
It’s a little degrading.
Not as bright.

You never take these things out.
I’m not sure why you keep them, really.
But you know I don’t complain.
I don’t tell you to fix me every time you’ve dropped me.
And let me tell you.
It was a pretty high shelf to fall from.
I don’t have to tell you not to worry.
You don’t care enough to anyway.

I wonder if you got tired of me.
Maybe you grew bored.
Couldn’t teach me new tricks.
I didn’t have anything more to give.
My battery died.
My lights went out.
My voice button doesn’t work anymore.
Not that you listened when it did.
But you kind of just let me die.

And then told me it wasn’t your fault.

Except…

You never replaced my batteries.

The little girl in me feels neglected.

I guess, til now, I never truly reflected
Never really understood
How parents like you didn’t do all that you could
To ensure I felt safe and secure
To keep my innocence pure.

You allowed me to witness
All of your recklessness.
I find it awfully selfish
That you claim to have been helpless.

I needed you at your best
You gave me 50% and gave everyone else the rest.

Now I’m grown and I have to pick up
The shattered pieces of my heart
And tear my toxic thoughts and habits apart.

While I’m healing and in recovery,
I make sure to show much love to the little girl in me.

Doves flown off a high-rise,
Expectantly eager
To show how much they know
And how great they are;
People today have such a need to prove themselves.
For whom, and to what?
Such fruitless times,
When new growth
Rots on the vine.

Just one moment,
I plead for you.
To kiss me,
Hold me,
And care for me too?
Please tell me tales,
Of wonder and play.
Love me through words,
I need you to say.

'I love you, child',
'It'll be okay'.

But all is a dream,
You get quite annoyed.
For the child
Facing you,

Is the one you avoid.

'Come,
Take my hand'.
Said the boy
That I,
Created in my head.
To live a little lie,
And go here instead.
Escaping my pain,
Away from such dread.
When I open my eyes,
I see nothing but red.
But I cave inside,
And here,
I fled.

When I stop
I notice your unwavering presence
your persistence surprises me
because I neglect you.
Lovers don’t do that.

In my dreams you are there
passing through my imagination
like a genie yearning to gift me.
Your stories teach me about your desire
to interrupt my ordinary.
I even remember a few of your tales
and try to figure out what they mean
for my dull self.

I know. You don’t like me discounting my self
because when I do so
I discount you my precious one
and the awesome power of your love.

Inspire me today
a day of needed and neglected work.

You are here my love
in every fiber of my body
every impulse of my mind.

I will dive into the river of your compassion
and be refreshed by it.