today, the little girl tip-toed out of the shadows and spoke
she admitted to being afraid
she said outloud that she wanted someone to take care of her
she admitted she wasn't as strong as she may have acted all along
this event was quite unintentional
she tried to suck her back in and keep her quiet
but the little one snuck out anyway and squeaked quietly in her tiny little voice
while skipping thru the tearsdrops and the pain and sadness
past the shame and the anger and the darkness of her own hollow reflection
Let her speak, she said...you must finally let her speak.
allow her a life, a soul of her own
the time she deserves to be a child, helpless and small
let her breathe, let her grieve, let her hold your hand when she is afraid
and try as i might to ignore her, she is strong too. stronger than me sometimes.
and when i keep her locked away, deep inside....she tears at my heart, and my soul
like she has for so long
being punished for no reason, really
but for everything, actually
and so it is
i let her speak
just this once, for now...
but please, would you hold my hand?
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