I buried you.
Destroyed you.
Why are you here?
Quiet.
Weak.
Unsure.
Why are you here?
I’m back to being you,
the version of me
I never wanted to be.
Quiet.
Weak.
Unsure,
but here I am.
Here you are.
You hold my hand.
Yours is soft.
You are a child.
Your smile is warm.
You offer me kindness
when I don’t deserve it.
I’ve abandoned you.
Pushed you away.
Buried you.
Destroyed you.
I made sure
you stayed in my past.
You were weak.
I needed to be strong.
Your voice is soft
when you ask me what’s wrong.
You touch my shoulder
and kneel beside me.
I tell you I’m lost
and have nowhere to go.
I’ve been lost for some time now,
letting others guide me
to the destination they wanted.
That I wanted at some point.
I realized too late
how easy it was to get rid of me.
The same way
I got rid of you.
You extend your hand.
I hesitate,
staring up at you.
Why offer your hand
when I abandoned you?
I take it
and you help me stand.
I was wrong.
You’re not weak.
You just may be
the best version of me.
