Between a rock and a hard place

One year six months ago I know…
October 2, 2008, 9:29 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Originally posted in responses to a blog my little sister had written 


Two years ago a little girl left home, with fire in her eyes and a drive in her body
Two years ago a girl thought life would always be out to get her
That, the little girl would never find anything to make her as happy as she wanted to be
Wishing she could mentally afford the name brand super glue to fix her broken soul

Two years ago a little girl sat there and let little boys use her
She thought maybe she would feel better
Maybe she’d find something amazing
Something amazing to fix her injured soul

Two years ago, a little girl left home with mile thick walls around her heart
Nothing could pierce those walls
No prince charming, no army, no man, woman, or child
Those walls had been built thick and heavy
Two years ago not even the little girl could see her heart, it was so far behind those walls

Two years ago when that little girl left home
She lost herself. The little girl lost everything she knew was safe behind
Everything she knew in the past was pain and saddness
Surely this was all she would find

Two years later that little girl found herself.
Two years later she thinks about the little boys that said they loved her
She thinks about how she loved them to
The little girl thinks about how she loves them now
She loves them now for all they did to her, good, bad, indifferent.
That little girl realizes with these little boys 
she became something else
She became fierce, sexy, loving, passionate, careful, honest, brave, caring, bright, soulful
She became a woman

With all the pieces of her heart held together by dollar store scotch tape
Two years later this woman, knows she can make it through anything life throws at her
Life and little boys will hurt, and sting, and wound our precious, fragile souls
But with each, blow we get stronger

Two years later, this woman knows, her mother, her sisters, the friend from highschool 
Will always try to pick up those pieces
Mend her wounded soul, with mortar and glue.
Two years later the woman is proud of all she has endured
All the little boys that added a piece of patchwork to her heart.

Two years later this woman has the beginnings of a beautiful quilt 
Two years later she wonders when things started going right
She thinks she doesn’t know
But a woman’s heart always knows.

Things started going right when she thought she was at the lowest
Things started going right for the woman

Two years ago

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