I realize the child I used to be is still a part of me,
and that each time I wish it away
I’m wishing to not be around.
It’s just I haven’t learned to love myself unconditionally yet
and I’m still neglecting myself
That’s why when I heard you tell your girlfriend
you wish your children never were,
I couldn’t help but want to hold myself in my arms
before I ended up trapped on a web page
or a headline in somebody else’s subconscious.
It was a long time ago
that I was like that kid you’re talking about,
and now I’m an adult child of parental abuse and addiction.
A volcano, I’m always exploding when I least expect it,
and it’s only then that I see how much self-loathing
is still there burning me and turning memory to ash.
Because believe me when I tell you that
when I don’t deal with my own, I drop it into others
like you drop quarters into a gumball machine,
and whatever starts with me doesn’t stay there where