I want to have a conversation with
My six-year-old self;
Give her a hug and let her sit on my
Lap, not pushing her away even though
My knee hurts.
I want to show her the birds
And the rabbits and the deer with
The antlers,
I want to tell her that her momma is
Not the tooth fairy and her father
Is not her savior.
I was born in a burning house,
I survived but there\'s still water damage.
That little girl is being burned by the
Second, I\'m scared that when she\'s older
She won\'t recognize herself in the mirror
Because I know she doesn\'t.
I want to tell her not to eat that
Cashew brownie,
You are being poisoned and it will
Hurt. I want to tell her to protect herself,
To yell as loud as she can and to put
The blanket over her head when she feels
Scared.
I want her to go outside and ride
Her bike with the neighbors, that one girl
Is a bitch but she\'s the only one there;
That\'s OK, you will survive her comments
And birthday parties and the miserable
Summer heats and the snow forts
And the laughter.
I want her to ride just a little further than
Her dad said she was allowed;
And I want her to bring more layers when
She goes camping, because it\'s cold,
She\'s not used to the cold; she was
Born in a burning house.
I want to tell her that there\'s
No such thing
As being fat, that the other girl was just
Seven and didn\'t understand how her
Words will affect you for the
Rest of her life. I want to tell
Her that she\'s beautiful and she\'s normal
And the pink T-shirts are the best
Thing ever and maybe you can
Smile with your teeth
A little longer or maybe you can have that
Extra scoop of ice cream because you are
Not fat.
I want to hug her and not let go,
Because so many of the hands that
Touched her were with violent intent;
I want to tell her that it\'s not her fault,
It\'s not her fault and it never will be,
Never was and never will be.
I want her to play house but don\'t be the
Teenager, you won\'t want to be when you
Really are; I\'m jealous of you.
I would tell her I love her and that I will
Forever, even if it doesn\'t always seem
Like it. I want to tell her that the monster
Isn\'t under the bed, that the princess
Night Light will last forever if you let it,
That there\'s no such thing as getting too
Old.
I want to tell her that she\'s a child.
She\'s a child, and things will change
And it will hurt inside and out,
And that you were not born to hurt,
You were not born angry but the
Fire around you burned you beyond repair.
She was born in a burning house
With invisible flames
And that white picket fence.
I want to hold her and let
Her cry into my shoulder,
Her screams echoing around the room
And sobs staining my shirt.
I want to patch up her wounds and
Make her forget,
I want to help her through the hurt
And hold her hand while she
Rides her bike,
Because I don’t want her to fall and
Scrape her knees.
I want to tell her it’s OK
To say ‘I love you’ when you don’t
Know what it means, and
I want to tell her to hug the stuffed bear,
Name it Bear and call the other one
Bear’s cousin, the other one big bear
And the last one Joey.
I want to go back in time to
Sing, to speak, to laugh and
Love and learn.
I want to go back in time to
Protect that little girl because maybe she
Needs it too.
I want to go back in time to
Cry with my grief apparent in my yells;
Not afraid to let everything out without
The possibility of someone hearing me.
I want to go back in time;
I want to have a conversation with
My six-year-old self;
Give her a hug and let her sit on my
Lap, not pushing her away even though my
Knee hurts.