Marrow

by Unga Bunga Girl

 

as a child, I would escape behind the drapes that hung on the picture window at my parent’s home
the feel of comfort in hiding
the calmness of disguise

if only I could be seen for who I am
and not the troubling child they thought me to be

too many stains to wipe away
too many faults to make right
too little feeling to make me stay

Left to seek for glory on my own
intensity, fierceness and desire
for something so much finer

I feel it so deep inside without wondering why I keep seeking
and aching to be seen.

7 Comments to “Marrow”

  1. if this is your memory, I hope you found better, the child deserved so.

  2. I enjoyed reading this, it brought lots to the surface for me, particularly my journey toward finding, and eventually loving who I am. Thank you for sharing it.

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