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the worst version.

do you know the worst version of yourself?

do you know what she eats? what she needs? do you know her shame? her primal scream into the abyss?

she needs you. but you pretend she doesn’t exist and shove her to the back. it’s almost like you save her for crisis. for moving day. your deadline. for holidays with family and travel in rough weather.

and then she’s out, loud and uncompromising and insistent. she wants to help or exist or express and still be loved. and no one can do this for her except you. but you don’t. you treat her just like everyone else. then she gets pushed back inside just as soon as she’s out. and you think she’s gone but she always comes back.

because the lock loosens when the mask wears thin. that’s the gift. you get to see what she needs (and what she wants) so she can soften into her correct configuration. because she wasn’t given to you for ruin.

her only job has ever been to remember your true face.