Fingertips trace along the worn out, cracked wall,

I have it pinned up front where everyone can see.

They try to crane their necks to get a glance of whom I am hiding inside:

This frail, broken, innocent young girl with clipped wings and tear stained cheeks

Is curled up in a ball on the other side.

I can’t let anyone get to her.

I can’t let anyone past my wall.

 

I am bounded with golden armor head to toe

Challenging my enemies with a glare.

Whenever I have time I put up my armor,

I go to the little girl and I groom her dusty wings,

I dry her eyes and I try to help her fly again.

It’s hard to help someone fly when their wings have been clipped.

 

Sometimes curious people on the other side of the wall bash themselves against it.

Eager and impatient, they only crack the wall even more.

Only a couple of souls have gotten past it, they saw the little girl and tried to fix her as well.

They gave up; they were shut out, erased.

The little girl screamed, kicked, bit, and lashed out at anyone who tried

So it’s just me battling myself.

 

Sometimes I don’t glare at the new onlookers,

I smile politely letting my wall crumble a little bit more

Hopefully the little girl within me

The one who has been through hell and beyond that

Can understand not all onlookers are the evil demons we try to cast out

Not each and every one wants to rip apart her flesh with their teeth.

I’m here to protect her until she can fly again

Until she can become whole again.