DEAR YOUNGER ME

When I imagine walking into my childhood bedroom and seeing myself sitting on the floor. I sit next to her. She cries, and I lift her head up and wipe those tears away, and I ask her what is wrong. I listen to every single word. I hug her and I just hold her in silence. I have no true words for her. What she is going through, I can’t control. It is the past. But I can heal and be her light in that moment before she forgets me. If I had any advice for her now that I wish I had, then, I would tell her not to hide her colors. Because then maybe I would know who I am now. She hid her colors so deep, that now they are lost. But it is the past. But I promise I will find those colors for us.