Talk to me

A snapshot of my thoughts

It came to me−
A voice I thought forever repressed
Through a comforting and desperate cry
The voice urged me to push through and get dressed
Told me I could do it; it was okay to sometimes regress
To be okay with every tear I cry
To accept an occasional lullaby
To never choose when or how to say goodbye.
For a fleeting moment the abuser was nowhere in site,
Cursing at me to shut up, get up and do it right.
Or else.
That pure, nurturing voice-
It's not completely repressed
Talk to me─