inside my head

There, there, darling, says the little girl inside her head; the little girl before the scars and the hurt; the little girl holding all of the laughter; the little girl with big round eyes and possibilities and love.

It’s okay, she says. It’s okay. I’m still here.

But I don’t know where to find you, she tells the little girl before the scars. I don’t know where you are. Without you, I am lonely and empty and a shell and pain. 

I know it hurts, my love, murmurs the little girl before the scars. I know it hurts. But I’m not leaving. I will always hold your hand, and when you can’t feel it, I will squeeze even tighter.

But how do I know you won’t leave me, little girl? Everyone’s left me. Sometimes, still, I feel all alone.

The little girl inside her head, the little girl before the scars and the hurt, the little girl holding all of the laughter, the little girl with big round eyes and possibilities and love – the little girl grins.

Because I am you, she says. And I always have been.