Conversations With My Teddy Bears

When I was just a little girl
Conversations were part of my world
But, they made me feel like a target
The conversations made me want to forget

That I had a father that didn't care
That's when I turned to my teddy bear
I would retreat to my room
In the state of such gloom

I'd hold my teddy bears so tight and just talk
I'd be hoping no one would knock
So I could go on with my word vomit
Sometimes, I would cry so hard, I couldn't stop it

I loved talking to my teddy bear, and sometimes, my dolls
I don't know if my father could hear me thru the door and walls
My father used to tuck me in for the night but...
It would leave me confused, and saying, ''what?''

Soon, I became comfortable with my father not talking to me
I was different with my teddy bears...a part of my father didn't see
My bedroom became my home
With my teddy bears and dolls, I'd built a dome

Even as an adult, today
I still talk to my teddy bears, and that's okay
I'll soon be thirty-five
And teddy bears have kept me alive

If I didn't have my teddy bears to talk to
I don't know what I would do
Every teddy bear I have, is like my kid
They provided far more that what my father did!

Reviews

[Chris]

This one brought pain ...memories never forgotten nor forgiven... and a depth of understanding I had long forgotten. I needed that now, thank you.