Please, dear child with eyes as wide and beautiful as they once were when the world was thirteen years younger and so were you, I beg you not to lose your sense of self. Don’t lose your sense of innocence because life has not proven to be the one you saw on television or even in your dreams. I beg you not to forget your dreams when you wake, don’t forget the vision of light and hope that found themselves a home in your eyes.
Dear child with skin so thin, I am sorry that you have been hurt. I am sorry that thunder isn’t the sound of angels bowling. I’m sorry that rain is not the tears of God because sadness is heavy, isn’t it? You know this now, you have learned the weight of pain and how words are sometimes not enough. Child, I am sorry that the things you found refuge in are fleeting shadows that never had a home as you did. I’m sorry that your dad is not a superhero and your mom was not created with more time to share with you. I’m sorry that you cannot go back.
I am sorry that faith sometimes upsets you. I’m sorry that the Bible does not say what you wish it would. I’m sorry that truth really does hurt and that hurt is sometimes the only truth you will ever know. My heart breaks when I see your face fade and fingers fall to the floor before the moon reflects light onto your once beating heart. I wish you did not have to cry so many times; I wish eternity were not so far away.
But child, do not feel sorry for yourself. Stop shedding tears that aren’t yours. Stop trying to take a path that was not meant for you. Stop worrying, because everything will be all right. So I ask you, young one with the light in your eyes, allow your heart to sing. Allow your words to dance and set free what once has been caged within your lungs. Breathe and let loose the fire that burns through your frame and take captive all things that once held you.
You are loved, child. Do not let anyone, including yourself, deny you of that.
- Phlo[x]
