Therapy Bits

In the garden of childhood, where wild daisies grew,
Laughed a soul of innocence, golden and true.
A ribbon in hair, wind-kissed and bright,
She danced in the dawn, chasing soft light.

But shadows came early, unbidden and near,
Wrapped round her heart with sadness and fear.
The silence grew heavy, the touch turned cold,
A story of trauma too harsh to be told.

She buried her memories deep in the ground,
Where whispers of hugs made no echoing sound.
The past was a ghost she dared not unmask,
A haunting that lingered behind every task.

She walked through the years, often lonely and small,
A quiet survivor, behind every wall.
But healing is stubborn—it speaks soft and low,
And even burnt soil can let wildflowers grow.

With trembling hands, she unearthed what was buried,
The truth she had silenced, the grief she had carried.
Each shard of her pain, she faced with a will,
Until her cracked soul began to grow still.

Now in the mirror, she sees the same eyes—
Wiser with time, yet still touched by skies
That once held her laughter, her terror, her fall—
A child who still dances beneath it all.

For recovery whispers, not in grand cheers,
But in breathing through nightmares, in drying old tears.
She ties a new ribbon where old wounds had been—
A symbol that healing can always begin.

Thursday Inspiration #287 Help Me Make It Through the Night – A Unique Title For Me