Reblog – This Inner Child Has A Name, You Know

This poem made me tear up.  And I thought of this picture.  A picture is worth 1,000 words.  This picture made me write, this is why I practice kindness and compassion to everyone, because my inner child is an old woman who is sick and tired of hurting.  I have never cared what you believe in, listen to, think, etc.  Fighting has never gotten me anywhere, but regarding everyone as someone who hurts, has made me connect with beautiful people who also don’t want to spread pain.

 

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Ward Clever

That’s the funny thing about it
I missed
I missed you
But it didn’t hurt
It couldn’t penetrate the numb
Desensitized as I was to the roller coaster
It’s a long wait for a short head trip
Chains bring you to the top
But chains keep you tied down
In chains it’s hard to enjoy anything
You can either break them, or yourself
Escape is an option
You can hide, but you can’t run
You can hide from yourself
You can’t run from the demons
You become one of them
Split off splinters of you
Each one taunting your inner child
It hurts when you reintegrate
So you become numb
Don’t let that child suffer
It is innocent
Doesn’t deserve any of this
So close your eyes and remember
Would you treat a friend this way?

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