Mind

You stoop down and pick up the child, holding them safe in your arms. Their eyes peer up into yours, sad and full of tears, you whisper to them, "it's alright now, I'm taking care of you." They cling to you. You knew they were crying for so long, knew that they kicked and screamed when you picked them up and shoved them in a dark place. You knew that they hated it. You knew their heart broke a little more everytime you insulted them, everytime you slapped them, everytime you told them you were disappointed in them. Every single time. You saw the tears streaming down their cheeks. Yet you did nothing.

But you are now. "It's okay, I care." Holding them tightly you say all the wonderful things about them. All the things that you love about them. You feel tears drip onto your shirt, but you continue listing all those things that you adore about them. For they are part of you. They're your mind. You kicked and slapped and screamed at them for years. But now you're hugging them, holding them close and whispering how much you love them. How much you love yourself. You hold yourself tightly on the bathroom floor, tears rolling down your chin and dripping onto your shirt.

"It's okay, I care."