Re-Parenting

Re-Parenting

Sometimes I wait for the right kind of inspiration.What wants to come out does not quite feel light,but your constant struggle makes me uncomfortable – to say the least, loved child.

Sometimes you vibrate stress from every one of your small pores,your constant moving anger,I just cannot keep up with my own withholding danger.

Your little body trembling in all that feelings loose, never fail to raise that knowing of my own un-ease. You force me to look deep,deeper than I want to, covers me in shame, I know not you’re the one to blame. 

This onholding discomfort I see in your eyeswhen you look at me while drowning there my child. in your feelings, in your wild. 

Deep, deep into the tunnel, you reach for helping hands,I try to hold them down for you but you keep missing them.Balancing my own two feet, not fall myself, to answer there your call for help and try to fight my hell.

Honestly sometimes I doubt if I can parent right, when i still have to learn, accepting my own wild. I do the best I can, to hold you through my grief of feeling anger deep inside.

I work trough it alongside you, it’s new for me, it’s new for you. Now we stand there old and young on a quest to life.

The big question is, who is teaching whom to thrive? 

Sometimes I feel inspired by feelings not that nice, but maybe that’s the treasure maybe that’s the prize.