I'm a grown-up, sometimes. When the laundry needs done, the aching bodies needs soothed, the bills needs paid. I am a grown-up.
But when I am missing you, I am a little girl again. When I am scared and in need of a mother. When my heart is broken, I am a little girl. When I am overwhelmed, I am a little girl. I am YOUR little girl.
When I need to cry so badly, but my daughter's need me more, I am a grown-up. When I am working hard to provide, I am a grown-up, even when I am forcing the smile.
When I get home at night and think of you, long for you, I shrink, collapse, roll into a ball, trying to squeeze the pain so small, it no longer hurts. In that moment, I NEED to be a little girl, YOUR little girl.
Such a foolish grown-up I was and still can be, denying my needs . . . natural needs. Even grown women need their mothers, need to be someones little girl.
And even now, still, when I dream of you, I am never comforting you, I am never the grown-up. I am a little girl with quivering lips and tear stained cheeks curling up next to you, as close as possible . . . I am your little girl.
And when I am needing my mom, when I am desperate to have you back again, I wonder how in the world can I just be grown-up enough to never feel like a little girl again?
But when I am missing you, I am a little girl again. When I am scared and in need of a mother. When my heart is broken, I am a little girl. When I am overwhelmed, I am a little girl. I am YOUR little girl.
When I need to cry so badly, but my daughter's need me more, I am a grown-up. When I am working hard to provide, I am a grown-up, even when I am forcing the smile.
When I get home at night and think of you, long for you, I shrink, collapse, roll into a ball, trying to squeeze the pain so small, it no longer hurts. In that moment, I NEED to be a little girl, YOUR little girl.
Such a foolish grown-up I was and still can be, denying my needs . . . natural needs. Even grown women need their mothers, need to be someones little girl.
And even now, still, when I dream of you, I am never comforting you, I am never the grown-up. I am a little girl with quivering lips and tear stained cheeks curling up next to you, as close as possible . . . I am your little girl.
And when I am needing my mom, when I am desperate to have you back again, I wonder how in the world can I just be grown-up enough to never feel like a little girl again?
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