Eulogy for the Sadness of My Seven Year Old Self

Just as the leaves change on the trees with the changing of the seasons, so does the sadness that grows within her tiny chest.

As the seasons change from Spring, to Summer, to Fall, to Winter, so do the emotions that flow within her tiny body. As the leaves on the trees go from green, to yellow, to orange, to red, to brown, and fall to the ground, so too do her feelings.

Tiny heart with big emotions. Tiny body with volcanic anger. Tears fill her chest and wall her hazel eyes. Where do I hide in this darkness of mine?

Poor seven year old me, all alone in this cruel cruel world. The snow begins to melt. Spring comes again. Will I allow the tears to fall this time?

I don't need to be strong anymore. I can allow myself to feel the feelings I feel.

Boxed in, these walls of mine. The "I'm fine" I've created at such a young age without realizing it has been more of a burden than a sanctuary.

The sadness that envelops me has become my room of torture. The tiny house that I live in until I'm set free. Set free like the little blue bird trapped in a cage singing her song of freedom. Freedom to go home to you. Freedom to live my life unafraid with you, my seven year old self.