She's being told to be a kid again, instead of a mom.. Be silly and stupid and herself, To spill the drink on her clothes and not care to be tidy, not care to be pretty..
She's being told to demand help, when she doesn't know how to open a pack of crackers.. To receive whatever she thinks she doesn't want.. Because somehow her memory makes her believe She's better off without things, that come with conditions..
She's being told to act helpless, even though her heart knows she isn't! To face what has always been in her.. That she lost her appetite for, Everytime she got hurt!
To reconnect to all her hungers for life.. Hungers that burn brighter, Sometimes after devouring the feasts, just as much they do, sometimes after fasting.. She's being told to be entitled enough to expect what she wants, & throw away what doesn't woo her wishes..
It is in these uncomfortable ways of not being a caregiver, That she's being told to care for herself.. And it is in these ways of demanding, taking and forgetting to give back, In these wild ways of not caring enough to be moral, That she's struggling to find herself.. Struggling to accept what hurt her own feelings once.. But she's being told to find herself everywhere.. Everywhere in her wilderness, Just as much as in her maturity..
By chasing her extremes, She's being told to not belong to her polarities.. By a voice that says, There is always enough for everyone, So take & take, As much as you think you don't need it, Until you begin to need it again.. Blow into your extinguishing crackling coals Until the fire in it is strong enough, to bake your muddy life into form again! Until then, Be a kid again..