Interlude: When You Were Little

When you were little,

You had that spark.

The one all the little girls do.

Until the world teaches them playing with fire is not what you're supposed to do.

So you stamped it out.

You stopped adding kindle.

You grew bigger in size, but your spirit dwindled.

When you were little.

You had that sadness that came in waves,

Deadly and beautiful and crashing.

Pushing  you down until your face scraped the sand

Then bringing you back up so you could gasp in the sun,

the air salty and sweet and fresh on your tongue.

But then coming up got harder.

And everyone said.

The strong don't get swept away.

So you stayed on the shore to breathe in the air, but it didn't taste the same.

And you were in a different kind of pain.

When you were little, your body was a planet that belonged only to you.

You reveled in your, power, in your rocks and your roots

But then your skin became porcelain that could never be smooth.

You grew ashamed of your bumps and your and your scars and your grooves

And then your voice.

Do you remember when you lost it.

It used howl with the wind and whisper in the breeze, knocking down power lines and tickling trees.

But then.

You learned to be that free.

Was a just liability.

So you locked the wind in the closet and threw away the key.

And dusty from disuse, stuffy with neglect

Your voice would still find ways to burst through

But you'd push it right back.

Because That's what Good Girls do.

And then you were

Hollow.

On loan to the world.

Wishing someone would look at you and see you as a whole.

So you gave and you gave

Because how else could you love.

Because everything told you that you were not enough.

At least that was better. Than being too much.

You didn't know then.

That you had it right.

That adding wood to the fire is essential for life.

You didn't know then not to turn your back on the sea.

That air without water is just something to breathe.

You didn't know then, how much your body could grow.

how to plant trees in your skin

how the fault lines and hills would become the map of all the places you've been

You didn't know then; but wind can't be trapped

It is meant to make itself known

In powerful gusts

Or a warm summer breeze

Brutal and gentle

never existing to please

You didn't know, Baby Girl

But did a part of you hope.

That one day the flames in your eyes and your heart and your tongue

would light you from the inside,

would open you up.

Would burn and dance leaving destruction and birth

Would be how you knew you belonged on this earth.

You didn't know then, but did you believe

That one day you'd begrudgingly return your tears to the sea.

You didn't know then, but could you have guessed

That one day, you'd love yourself so much

you'd crack open your own heart

again and again

That each time you'd be surprised by by the shine of the gems.

You didn't know then.

But could you have foreseen

The winds of your life blowing you to me

And I'm sorry I couldn't say it

when you needed it most

But I love you, just for existing as you

Little One,

if you saw us today you would cry,

tears of joy and relief and pride.