Saturday, February 11, 2012

What's In the Box?

Oh look,
Beneath the flap tops
Sits a tiny girl.
Huddled in a corner
Clutching her knees
Eyes brimming with unshed tears.

You forgot
She was placed there
Kept safe from the outside
You know, the world you lived.
While you were groped
She was safe in here
In the darkest and safest place she knew.

Every time
Dad found you, and held you
She hid in the box
Pulled the top closed
And covered her ears
She sang a lone melody
And shut out the sound of your cries.

And now
You have become a dead thing
A memory is all that's left
And a faint one at that
Poor, pathetic child
You rest now, with my tears as your somber tribute

But the little girl, kept safely away in the box?
She is alive, and strong.
Laughing now, and brilliantly happy
No longer in the box that protected her,

But living inside of me.


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