my shelter was nails above.
my shelter was leather below.
i wasn’t good enough,
and i was punished for no.
i did not want this for you,
so when i saw you in my future,
i knew what i had to do,
frankenstein myself a new creature.
the rebuild isn’t perfect.
it’s built by human hands,
flawed and highly suspect,
a slave of faulty glands.
but this version would self destruct,
before it harmed your soul.
this rag doll that i construct,
is ugly but it’s whole.
its button eyes have seen things,
that a child should never see.
its sinew threads hold vibrations,
of moral injury.
the stuffing in its head is torn up,
tapestries embroidered,
with lies crafted to shore up,
a twisted world order.
enough will happen to you out there.
you don’t need me to be the one,
to teach you that true care is rare,
and life has games but not all fun.
i hope i have done my job,
of building a survivor,
not a fear reactive blob,
but a brave proactive thriver.
watching you become,
the woman you are today,
i hope i’ve been the kind of home,
you want to be someday.
but if something’s not right,
don’t let it be unspoken.
it should be brought to light,
and then be gladly broken.
