The Child Inside

The child in me was lost a long time ago.

I feel her clawing at my chest

Small fingers wrapping around my rib-cage

She pulls, breaking the bones

As her nails dig into my stomach

And tears open the skin

Finally she can breathe

She is no longer trapped inside my corpse

The little girl I was

The little girl I am

She slips from my frame

Covered in blood and guts

Birthed from trauma

She sit beside me and stares at the gaping hole

I did that, she thinks.

As if she could've prevented it

As if she had a choice

As if she wasn't stuffed inside my body against her will

I mourn for her

I envy her

I want her gone

Trapped

Locked away

I grab her roughly

Angrily

Shamefully

She screams and kicks

She doesn't want to go back

It's dark in there

I don't want her

I don't want her

I don't want me

I stuff her back inside and stitch the hole shut

Again, I feel her clawing

Nails digging into flesh

But this time she cannot come out

And I am left to wonder

Who did this to her -- to me?