And so
I learned to breath myself in
To tread lightly around the melancholy meadows that surround my heart
For there are flowers in that sad, sweet meadow
Flowers and broken things
But mostly flowers
I learned to care for myself
To speak kindly and with understanding
For who could know I better than I
And along my journey within my mind
I found a little girl with out stretched arms
Begging to be held
So I took this pale child and I held her close
Rocked her as she sobbed
And as her tears flowed I found my own checks wet
She had been hiding within the darkness of my mind
She had made herself small
Spoke so quietly, trying to vanish
She almost did
So I yanked her out
Into the light
Where I held her tight
And vowed to never forget her
For though my thorns may cut you
My flowers are sweet to the smell
And though my walls will deter you
I leave a rope for you to climb
The mark of the wounded healer
Broken yet whole
Burdened yet free
Open yet closed
Black yet white
I see myself
Just as I see you
Perhaps maybe one day you can see too