Refraction.

Sweet Child. (I'm Sorry.)

You were taught that you didn't matter,
That your passions were laughable,
Emotions simply a weakness.
Conditioned to be grateful- too grateful-
How could you ever exist on your own?

It wasn't your fault, sweet child.
Your father's lust for praise, his need
To be needed, desire to feel wanted-
It wasn't your fault.

He didn't see you as more than a talent,
An asset, an extension of- a better version of-
Himself. They framed you as a prodigy,
But never acknowledged your needs.

I'm sorry, sweet child, that nobody told you
How much you matter beneath your intellect.
Your differences- that talent, but the way that you feel-
Are beautiful, natural.
You are more than how they feel.

You'll grow- believe me, you'll grow to be so strong.
Those scars will grow with you,
But you will never stop being beautiful.
Despite it all, some degree of innocence remains unscathed,
And you realise that you can love endlessly,
Even though the only example of love that you'd seen
Was war.

Sweet child, don't be afraid to cry.
You cannot flee just yet, but I promise you
That the future is bright.
Nobody should be treated- abused- as you have been,
And I wish I'd have known;
I wish I could have told you long ago.

Your father is a narcissist; your mother is broken...
The toxins that their 'love' produced
Sunk into your skin.

You were never the problem,
You didn't ask for too much, you didn't make a mess...
You were quiet enough to not be noticed;
How else could you avoid his wrath?

I'm sorry that your heart misses a beat
When you worry that you've inconvenienced somebody,
And I'm sorry that your mind grew old before its time.
Sweet child, I'm so sorry that I couldn't see
Those seemingly trivial wants were undiagnosed needs.

You'll grow into your mind,
And one day this body will feel like your own.
That empathy within your soul
Will be recognised for the miraculous thing that it is.
The tears in your eyes;
You'll learn that your father will never understand why
It is that you cry.

Your father is the root for much of your unrest, but not all,
And this is about you, not him.
You are so much more than he can understand:
You are loving, sensitive, gentle, and kind,
Not foolish, touchy, weak, or gullible.

Sweet child, I'm sorry that I never told you
To be patient with your body;
That it was never too big, that you didn't have to be thin
To be beautiful.
You will learn to love your stomach, and the stretch marks
By your waist; you'll do your best to treat your thighs kindly,
Even if they're still bigger than you'd like.

It doesn't matter that you're pale-
At the age of thirteen, you don't need to start thinking
About saving your pocket change for a nose job...

My dear, sweet child... This is my love-letter to you,
For the sun will rise, and you will thrive.
I'm sorry that this is all in hindsight, but it's the best I can do.
There's no need to take all of those pills,
Because you will become the somebody that you needed.

Sweet child, this I know, for I was once you,
And you will become me.
When you're alone and terrified in the dead of night,
I'll be by your side.

I wish, sweet one, I could give you everything you deserved.
I wish you'd had the childhood you needed;
That I'd been there to help you figure it all out...

The secrets of who you are will unfold with time,
But- dear child- I desperately wish I could get you the help
That you need, that the light in your eyes
Would never have to fade...

I'm sorry, sweet child, for the youth that you've lost,
The pain in your heart, the blame that you've
Been made to feel.

I'm sorry, sweet child, that you've been through so much,
And that it's so difficult to realise that nothing was your fault.

I'm sorry for these apologies that you'll never hear,
Because neither of us are to blame.
We- I- have no reason to apologise,
But (for your peace) allow yourself to mourn.