ｊｉｂｂｅｒｉｓｈ

poem

it breaks my heart.

cracks it in two to see just how much she's missed.
she's just a kid.
and she finally feels safe enough.
safe with me.
this is a good thing but it makes me want to cry anyway.

poor thing.
she's missed out on so much
and watching her there so soft
willing to be vulnerable with me...
willing to actually give herself time to develop, time to take part in all the things she missed.
poor thing.

and I swear it breaks my heart when she calls me "mama"
because it reminds me of what she has lost
what she has never had

and my heart just twists and squeezes and cracks,
but it feels good

knowing she finally has someone there for her in this way and knowing that that person gets to be me

and everything gets to be okay
and she gets to grow

but it's interesting and almost unnerving watching her nearly devolve because she feels safe in my presence.
is her facade that strong?
i believe she has grown but she has a lot more growing to do and I'm helping her with that

it's bittersweet to watch it happen all out of order because she doesn't know any better.

it's bittersweet to have to help from afar. and somehow that is still enough.

...

it's bittersweet having to help raise a child because she has done it all herself for so long.

.....and she still asks why I think she's strong