Come here little girl, let me wrap you in my arms and hold you close. Brush your tears gently away and blow soft kisses on all your wounds. But why my baby have you done this to yourself? What kind of pain is this you won't let go of? Why are you trying so hard to be unlovable? Why are you questioning your existence? Does it make you feel any better? Does this make it hurt less...show me where it hurts so I can make it better, tell me what to do little girl because I cannot bear to see the naked pain that your eyes should never have to show...you who is so pure,kind, generous, loving, and innocent...how did this happen to you? Why are you curled up all alone in this dark room and you don't want to feel the sunlight on your face?
All I get is even deeper sobs shaking your little body...you come to me and melt in my arms unable to vocalise how this pain makes you feel, where it hurts and how to make it better. Tell me, where does it hurt? What can I do? All you do is offer intelligible explanations that don't seem to make any sense. As I gather you and your tears slowly dry, the anguish reflected in your eyes is not something that someone like you should ever have to know...
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