There is a child hidden in my heart that refuses to come out. This child is there for when the world becomes unfathomable and I need to pout. This child allows me to laugh at knock-knock jokes and silly burping games. This child, however, has no face; no name.

There is a teenager hidden in there as well, one that never went to prom or danced barefoot in the sand. This teenager is there for times when the world is smothering me to the point I forget who I am. This teenager allows me to believe in love and dreams. This teenager, holds the hurt of never making the team.

There is a young woman that mothers both of them; as she won’t have a child of her own to adore and hold. This young woman tells me stories of youth and grandeur when I was bold. This young woman assures me it is not too late. This young woman refuses to look in mirrors, though, because of who she ain’t.

There are many more people living inside of me. A daughter, a sister, a teacher, a friend. They tell me things I should do; things I can be and then, they tell me not to let go, even when it is hard to listen to the child cry, feel the teenager hurt, or hide that I am low.

There are many people in you. I can hear them call. They want to be heard, they are trying to stop your fall. Each of them bares a special pain, but each of them can make you whole again.




August 13, 2016

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