Hey little me,
I know that nothing has been okay,
and I know that you're afraid.
I know that you're alone.
I know that all of the scrapes and bruises
they are nothing compared to what can't be seen.
I know that words hurt,
and so do the stares.
I know that the critisisms get your little head.
I remember how they shaped your hopes,
your dreams and aspirations.
I'm here to tell you that it will get tougher,
at least for the next few years.
You'll lose some of your innocence,
as people that were once your friends let you down.
You'll lose your faith in good,
as the news turns to tragedy after tragedy,
as you watch and hear the stories of women violated,
as you hear about the young men being sent off to war.
You'll lose sight of hope,
and your world will shatter.
You'll come to realize that the word cutting
had far less implications.
You'll realize that skirts and dresses
they are no longer an innocent fashion choice.
You'll relaize that the world has something to say,
and will critizize you for anything it can.
You'll notice that you are no longer an innocent child,
that the light is turning dark,
and that there will be times where you will want to give up.
There will be times when you've contemplate
simply because you can not handle the anxiety
of wanting to be yourself in the strict confines of this world.
It will get worse little one,
it normally does.
But I can promise you that we pulled through.
We found better dreams.
We became careful and learned
giving ourselves only to those we found to be good.
We learned to seek out and find love.
We redifined and kept hope alive.
We came out stronger.
We made a mission.
We got to today.
We make it through everything,
as horrifying as it seemed.
You were strong enough
to get to where I sit today.