Yesterday (actually now the day before) I connected full force, with some of the young, vulnerable versions of me that still live within. They don’t show up often, but they’re there. I blame my sister (I’m kidding, Z.) She told me stories about the way that I had appeared to her when we were growing up. Perhaps I wasn’t as good as she’d remembered. But I was better than I’d remembered. She reminded me of being a person I’d forgotten I’d been. And woke those parts of me that were sleeping. Or dead.
The broken children I've abandoned
The broken children I've abandoned
The broken children I've abandoned
Yesterday (actually now the day before) I connected full force, with some of the young, vulnerable versions of me that still live within. They don’t show up often, but they’re there. I blame my sister (I’m kidding, Z.) She told me stories about the way that I had appeared to her when we were growing up. Perhaps I wasn’t as good as she’d remembered. But I was better than I’d remembered. She reminded me of being a person I’d forgotten I’d been. And woke those parts of me that were sleeping. Or dead.