Childhood's Creation Inside Me

I feel sadness.

Like a best friend of mine who I have not seen in a while, yet is always there for me.

I know she is there for me at all times.

A shoulder to cry on, or is it the weight of her cries on my shoulder..

She is always accompanied by pain.

They have birthed joy by my gifted turmoil.

I run to the open arms of lonliness and welcomed by the embrace of enveloping darkness.

A security I longed to never surrender.

Abandon I am and the pain it remains; the aquaintances of pity and shame.

I sag the shoulders of defeat as regret invites me into the downward slope of self-loath

While guilt reminds me of the hatred I tried to forget within myself.

Inside this dark place, I find a little girl. She has seen fright, terror, gore, and much more.

Lost is a word to describe the look of eyes that gaze around as if a century of time has passed but her broken soul can no longer interpret.

Deciphering simple logic seems a foreign concept since it was never taught with conception.

And we grow together; broken but as one.

Broken shards and wholeness stains; the reminder of perserverance to those with unseen scars.

I do not live in a glass house

Because the rocks have already been thrown and turned to mountainous boulders.

And I have never lived in such a foundated home from dawn to day break.

Birth to theraputic receptions,

I give thanks to the efforts of glass and glue

The walls began to conform a unity

Now, all I see is stone.

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