Yesterday it was windy,
And I watched the metal guarded trees
On the streets
Billowing whispered conversations
To each other,
On my way to the waiting room.
I don't like visiting
The child in me.
She welcomes me,
And wants to hold my hand,
She introduces me
To her toys,
And is decently polite.
But it's like talking to someone
Who was your best friend for years,
Before you had a falling out...
You know so much about them,
But you don't know what's okay
To bring up.
I usually skip over the uncomfortable
Days of my girlhood,
I talk about today.
Today I can handle,
I can handle the person I've become,
But with who I was,
I don't know where to begin.
Yesterday,
I was told to look
At the freckle splattered,
Bedheaded child under my skin,
And see the salty dried
Tear streaks on her sun kissed, ***** cheek,
And let her cry with me.
I don't want to hold her,
No one else wanted to, so why should I?
I don't want to comfort her,
She's never been comforted before...
I don't want to let in the vulnerability
Because if I do,
It feels like everyone
Who ever kicked that little girl around
Wins.
But she needs someone.
She needs someone to tell her
What every child should hear,
That she's beautiful,
That she's brilliant,
That she's loving,
That she's kind,
That she's wanted,
And she didn't grow up too badly.
Little girl in me,
Who can be ripped up inside,
But still grin and giggle,
And play.
Who sings to herself,
Who likes to jump down the stairs,
Who wanted to die when she was
Ten,
But put the knife down,
If no one else will love you...
Then I will.