Little Mommy
Her side again. She's looking at a photo of herself at four, the tiny soldier who learned she had to take care of everyone. Seeing that little girl helped me understand why she loves the way she does. In a way, it's the same core wound as mine.
I found a photograph today, a girl I used to be
She's four years old, her hair's a mess, she's holding onto keys
To a house that wasn't safe, a world that wasn't kind
A tiny, little soldier, with a battle in her mind
She's standing on the rooftop, holding back the fall
The little mommy who was taught she had to save them all
And I'm so sorry, little girl, for what I put you through
I took your tired, tiny hands, and gave them work to do
I built a fortress from your bones, a temple from your fear
And I didn't even know that you were still in here
Just a ghost inside the garden, a whisper in the stone
Who learned her only value was in never being alone
I met a king, a man of fire, a forest, dark and deep
And I gave him all the promises a frightened girl could keep
I swore I'd be his anchor, I'd be his steady ground
I'd be the quiet in the storm, the safe and silent sound
I didn't know the only love that I knew how to give
Was just the warden's heavy chain that wouldn't let him live
And I'm so sorry, little girl, for what I put you through
I took your tired, tiny hands, and gave them work to do
I built a fortress from your bones, a temple from your fear
And I didn't even know that you were still in here
Just a ghost inside the garden, a whisper in the stone
Who learned her only value was in never being alone
He talks of dancing in the green, of a wild and open sky
And I remember a forgotten girl who also learned to fly
Before the roof, before the keys, before the heavy crown
Before I learned the only way to live was to hold down
Everything that's wild in me, everything that's true
I'm so sorry, little girl, I think I'm wild, too
I think I'm wild, too
And I miss you
I miss you