My Inner Child

I've been doing some reflecting,

And my inner child is screaming like a bitch.

What could you be mad about?

I thought to myself.

I said it out loud.

To myself, about myself, by myself.

Watching traffic from the overpass.

Collecting my thoughts.

Reflection is tough.

Reevaluating, contemplating.

You can't deny what you can remember.

What makes you who you are.

What makes you who you have become.

She's hollering now.

You know who you are.

You're a fucking rockstar.

Things fall together.

Sometimes they stumble together.

Every so often you run right into a wall.

They will take what they want, chew you up and spit you out.

Just remember where you started.

How you got there.

How you ended up here.

Faith and reason get you through when no one else is around.

And you stumble so many times you have no choice but to learn to walk.

What else can you do?

Crawl?

No fucking way,

Stand up.

Stand up tall.

Say it out loud,

And don't forget it.

You're a fucking rockstar.

You know who you are.

I talk about faith and feeling just a little broken.

Not so loud today, I guess.

This mood has me more soft spoken.

Not too much to really say.

I'm crumpled.

I'm frayed.

Much too handled.

Much too played.

Rough around the edges.

I'm sitting way to close to the edge.

Trying pushing back just a little, she whispers to me.

And my inner child is guiding me.

She has taken me by the hand.

She's looking over my shoulder.

Protecting me.

She talks about where I came from.

Educating me somehow.

Showing me things I have never seen before.

Explaining things that I had never quite understood.

I'm just listening, and not talking now.

Listening.

She whispers again, but not in my ear, this time she's looking deep in my eyes.

And I can't run,

I can't hide.

Stand up, you know who are.

You're a fucking rockstar.

I stand up, walking away from the overpass.

Backing away from the edge.

You have come this far, she pleads with me.

Show them who you are.

Show them you're a star.

My inner child is crying now.

Her voice is trembling.

She's not certain how this will go down.

Running and climbing.

Such a silly sense of freedom.

I stumble to the ground, and it hurts.

It's hurting inside though more than outside this time.

Sweat and tears stain my shirt.

My knees are filthy and covered in dirt.

She tells me to shake it off.

That I'm stronger than most.

Wasn't I listening, didn't I hear?

She asks me over and over, "wasn't I clear?"

There's no room for weakness.

No tolerance for fear.

I have often heard I walked before I crawled.

She helps me up when I stumble, she catches me when I fall.

They can take what they want from me then drop me at the door.

These fools are expecting me to bleed out while I'm lying on the on the floor.

On my own two feet, and standing tall.

I'm stronger from my silence.

I have more than this to give.

My inner child is smiling now.

She is glowing from her sense of pride.

See, I've been doing some reflecting, seems the only one I have been neglecting has been me.

Contemplating, reevaluating.

Trying desperately to show you what I've seen.

What has come together to make up me.