I lost an eight year old,
I don't know where
He is but I'm pretty
Sure he's gone
For good,

Thank God for that small mercy!
He drove me mad
Controlling my ****** life,
Rude and selfish little ****,
Unbearable little ****,

I still have a hurting
Babe in arms though,
Weeping in his pain,
But he is healing fast
As I hold him to my heart

And tell him from
My adult self
That it's okay now,
He is much loved,
And all will indeed

Be well.

Dare I say,
I take it day by day.

Moments of play,
Sculpted like clay.

But a thought to die
Pops up in my mind.

My mind,
Once flourished
Turns decayed,
Malnourished.

It captures my brain.

Perhaps I'm insane?

But on the outside,
I am sane.

No worry
To come my way.

All is well,
I know,
For that will stay the same.

It cannot change,
I CANNOT BE THIS WAY.

But alas,
I am.
I fall ill
In earth's hands.

For now
I carry utter guilt,
And blame.

What a shame.

may the day dawn when the warmth of a cup of hot chocolate cradles your hands, invoking memories of the laughter we once shared. and in that moment, my deepest wish is for your heart to overflow with pure contentment, untainted by shadows of the past. may the scars of your inner child find solace, no longer tethered to the lingering pain of darkness.

as you awaken each morning, may you draw back the curtain, inviting the sun's rays to dance within your room, illuminating your soul with a profound happiness that resonates through the echoes of your being. may the purity of your intentions radiate, touching the hearts of those around you, who come to know and love you for the genuine beauty that resides within.

There are no limitations. You
Receive help that
You never accepted.
It now encircles you.
By an outstretched hand.
No one bites it off.
Acceptance received.

The sun directly investigates
Any unwillingness
To not accept change. Bringing a pinch of new light.

Who would you have to be
Stepping into the
Other side?
Finding you are truly good enough.
That any other connection
From limiting beliefs
Unravels, like opening a pomegranate. One seed thinks it's all alone,
not seeing all the others encased in their own restrictions.
What if it were the perfect time? The full ripe fruit.

You are the right age! This is the perfect time!

What if the opposite were true?
What would you do? Even if a part of you did not believe it?

Bathe hence your confining insistences.
What is in your skyline? Your oceans horizon?
Supplied with new resources, a deliberate inventory, of unrestricted beliefs, if the opposite were true?
Then who would you have to be
To make it unmistakable?
Who would I want to be
If the opposite were true? Now, only now, as a matter of time.

In the mirror's gaze, a fractured self unfolds,
A prismatic dance, where identity molds.
Lost in the reflection, a journey concealed,
Identity entangled, a narrative revealed.

Each facet of me, like shards dispersed,
In the looking glass, a soul immersed.
A pretty stranger, unfamiliar grace,
Yet no connection, a separate space.

Contours traced, shadows cast,
In the looking glass, echoes of the past.
A dance of forms, a silent debate,
Identity's struggle, shadows dictate.

Reflections lag, in a subtle delay,
A disconnection, a mind's disarray.
The mirror's truth, a puzzle unsolved,
In self-perception, enigmas involved.

Yearning whispers echo through the glass,
To seize the heart that slips so fast.
Dissociation's dance, a silent plea,
To unravel the riddles, set the true self free.