Here lies your inner child. Taken too early, as they always say. A beautiful light snuffed out before it had a chance to grow. Voice crushed by hands of the cruel world. Playful imagination crumbled to reality. Full and loving heart pin-pricked to slowly drain out. Slowly, so you can feel the pain of the emptiness. Adventurous dreams danced in a brilliant mind before they were trampled to dust. A hallowed vessel, nothing more than a shell, is all that is left to dig the grave. All that is left to burry the secrets of an inner child that is now forgotten.

A feeling too familiar.

To Drift like a ghost in the wind.

Falling for false claims from those who often say.

They love me.

They support me.

They’ll be there for me. (Right)

But leave without a sound or notion of why. (Is it me?)

You blame yourself.

You try to come up with reasons on why people leave as fast as the seasons go by.

Spring, Summer, Fall & Winter.

As we enter the realm of our mind, I eagerly hear the questions.

Will I ever be enough?

Enough to be loved?

Enough to be cherished?

Enough to be heard?

Enough to be seen in a world of obscurity?

Enough to stay for?

Within me, I can see how heartbreaking the mind can be.

The gut punching facts that the mind speaks of tragedies or feelings of hurt.

They remain to remind you of memories that make you doubt yourself.

You think a good thing is a bad thing.

You think you are not good enough to feel joy or to even relish the thought of peace.

You no longer want to feel.

You want to be still.

The breakdowns severe, it feels as our hearts trying to escape your chest.

Questioning my worth, that I have worthy embedded in my skin.

Hear when I say.

Yes, you are ENOUGH.

You will loved & cherished.

The support you receive will be with no question.

The one you truly love the most will see you.

You are enough to stay for.

We are divine beings whom deserve peace, joy and love.

We Are Enough!

Dear 20-year-old me,

So, you flunked out of college
And lost your one true love.
You think you’re lazy, dumb, despicable –
Another useless maggot of our society –
A cancerous tumor bulging up,
Pressing upon our dying Mother Earth.

I know you’re sadly stuck
In the ultimate, existential catch 22.
Claim death,
And stab a dagger in your parents’ hearts.
Keep breathing,
And burden them all as you suffer.

Hold my hand and listen close
As I tell you of another way.
I will show you a path to living.
You can shed your sickly skin.
What is held within you
Is brighter than the darkness
Blacking out your soul.

The trick is not to push harder,
But rather to ease into yourself,
Relax into all that scares you,
Recover what hides and haunts.
Only then can you dig out the dirt.
Take time to purge, so as to heal.

Be patient with the process.
Transformation is within your reach,
But the grabbing is slow and arduous.
Like the alien-nymph buried in the mud,
You will one day emerge anew
With wondrous wings to take flight.

Oh, the lands you will discover!
Your adventures are only beginning.
Every part will piece you together.
Each experience, food for your growth.
You may think you’re outrunning the beast,
But really, you’re steering your wild heart.

Someday you’ll be the touchstone,
The teacher, the leader, the inspiration
For those you’re yet to meet,
But who will find their own way through you.
Your butterfly effect will ripple forth,
Brightening the worlds of many beings.

So, please, my dear former self,
Don’t discard or disregard who you are.
There’s more to us than you know.
You’re a dragonfly in waiting,
Temporarily buried in the muck,
Simply preparing for life in the sun.

To every version of me that was never enough,

Let’s start with adolescence
and travel through the years
Neglected as a child,
no one there to wipe your tears

You weren’t taught self-respect
Or that your mind had any value
You were taught that sex was cheap
With zero effort men could have you

You hid behind the booze
Because they kinda numbed the pain
You quickly lost control
And were unable to regain

You found yourself a mother
Before you started senior year
The man who shared the baby
Unfortunately, insincere.

The next ten years are blurry
A hurricane of lust and d ugs
Of broken hearts and empty smiles
And smoke-infested lungs

Men often saw a burden
In the place in which you stood
Because they can’t control you
And your mental’s not so good

In many ways they broke you
In body and in mind
You pretended you deserved it
But you can not be that blind

Your family and your friends
Jumped ship and left your side
When living was too much to bear
You would have rather died

Self-doubt bled into your life
In way more spots than one
Your exes sought out ammunition
You handed them the gun

They stripped you of the only thing
That really made you whole
You didn’t scream, you cowered down
As they inherited your soul

So many men with faces blurred
Have taken pieces of you
That weren’t on loan, or theirs to keep
So eventually you withdrew

You took your sanction, Owned it loud
As if you earned the retribution
You may as well have pulled the plug
A self-worth execution

You measured merit by fake love
And what you thought you had to offer
You forgot that you are also you
A mother and a daughter

You are worthy of the love you give
Maybe someday you’ll see
You don’t deserve abuse and fraud
Respect should not cost you a fee

Last I checked, you don’t lie flat
Outside of someone’s doorway
You have a right to voice your needs
And expect some mental foreplay

Maybe it’s time to consider facts;
until now you had no clue
You don’t need to be anything for anyone
As long as you’re okay with you.

Style score 62%

Dear Me from 4 years ago,

I know you weren’t thinking about winning the election. You weren’t a good enough candidate, and you had no experience. At least that’s how you saw the race. And your political party had not held a seat on the township board for years; correction, make that decades. In fact, they normally did not even run candidates for those township positions. Yes, I can see why you didn’t think enough of yourself to unseat an incumbent from the board.

Getting on the ballot was easier than you thought. You had the support from members of a local women’s group who helped get the 250 signatures you needed. But you knew getting your name on a ballot and winning a race against incumbents are two very different things. In your mind, you cast yourself as the underdog, and perhaps you were.

You ordered campaign literature and yard signs. Facebook posts and ads explained your views and positions. That was the simple part of the campaign. You wondered if you were good enough to hold your own at the candidate’s public forum. It was a good sign when opponents started agreeing with some of your talking points by the end of the forum.

Your confidence was growing until you tried to get an endorsement from a US House member. She told you in no uncertain terms that you were not running a serious enough campaign. Sorry, but she wouldn’t endorse you. I know that hurt, but it also steeled your resolve. You were no longer just running against some incumbent township board candidates, but you were running against the opinion of a sitting US Congresswoman who didn’t think your campaign effort was enough. You responded by working harder and smarter.

Sadly, it turned out that your campaign actually wasn’t good enough to get the most votes. You were not even close. You didn’t finish in second either. So close to third, but you fell short. Fortunately, four members serve on the board, and you finished comfortably fourth in the voting. Welcome to an elected office.

Here we are four years later, and you are now me, starting my second term in office on the township board after receiving the most votes of all candidates in the election two months ago. Discussions have begun about running for a county board position in 2028. Do I have enough in me to win? I think I just might this time.

Regards,
Me from today

Dear Unsealed,
Dear Vicki.
My version of myself was always to strive for the best.
As I used to feel I was left behind by the rest
So, I would strive to write and be good
Just like I thought I should
My younger brother was always trying to be the king
As I walk around the house singing
I attended nursing school
And I found out that it was cool
Learning about medicine and our bodies
I still felt like nobody
I then attended business school
To not be a fool
Flunked marketing class
Writing a thesis on shopping at thrift stores
For name brand clothes for less
My thesis was 10 pages long
My heart and soul bore
The truth
But my marketing professor said I was uncouth
And the thesis was supposed to be about expensive stores
And the better clothes to be found at a higher price
Of indulging into capitalism of the rich
A stitch
In time
I switched
To journalism
As an ism
Of fun
In the sun
Then I still wanted to study more
So not to be a bore
I learned makeup artistry
To work in the film industry
Then I studied graphic design
On the first MAC in its time
Then I was not satisfied with just that
So, I sat
In computer classes for years
With blood, sweat, and tears
Working in all my fields at once
Multi-tasking a bunch
I still felt like I wanted more
To not be bored
I now write
I now create art
I now try to bite the bullet
At 75
Of peace, truth, love, and understanding of life.
Still fighting with my younger brother
In love with the Heritage Foundation and all those fools
And their short male tools
Of huge egos and lies
Not enough was my attempt to fulfill my dreams in Hollywood
I have done so much 24/7
Now I’m tired of all that arguing with my brother
We took different paths in life
At 75 I still write about life and strife
Honesty and equality for all
So, the decision is made in the shade
Of my golden years
Of laughter and tears
Art is life
Life is art
My brother with all his religious degrees
Finally admitted he knew about religion
But not medicine
As all the laws from his precious heritage foundation
Are passed to kill healthcare and all that medicine holds true
I love my brother as a human being in his own light
Not to create a negative light
Upon this prose of sheer delight
As play with my toys and live in lollipop land
Of cookies and creams in those land
Of dreams that never stop
My dreams spit them out
As I sleep at night
Despite fighting or flight
My fight for justice
Is still in flight to fight again
Never enough!
Or is it?
It is enough to continue my fight for justice, equality, understanding, and love as a humanitarian.
I asked Microsoft Copilot about this letter.
“This document is a heartfelt letter addressed to a past version of oneself, expressing feelings of inadequacy and the journey of personal growth over time.
• Struggles with Self-Worth: The author reflects on their feelings of not being enough despite pursuing various educational paths and careers, including nursing, business, and journalism. They recount experiences that contributed to their sense of inadequacy, such as failing a marketing class and feeling overlooked in their pursuits. 1 2
• Embracing Art and Activism: As the author aged, they found solace in writing, creating art, and advocating for justice and equality. They acknowledge their ongoing struggles, particularly with family dynamics, but ultimately declare their commitment to fighting for humanitarian causes.”
Style guidance compliance is 100 percent by the Prowriting aid app.

Picture this,
The year was 1996, she was a few months shy of turning 11 yrs old.
Starts at a new school. Unfamiliar faces.
As the days go on, the voices from these unfamiliar faces start to haunt her.
Awake and in her sleep.
These words grow more harsh & uglier.
As the days turn into months;
she keeps every word, every emotion, every feeling inside. Like a full bottle.
Putting the “privacy” sign up on her body.
Her bottle is like the one she keeps at home –
shut tight.
Trying to open up wasn’t taken lightly at home. Her supposedly safe place. She got shut down.Why she hibernates the words spoken of the unfamiliar voices every day.

Were you able to vision all of that?

Okay, here’s one –

It’s now the year 2025 & she is a grown woman whose almost turning 40.
She started taking care of herself at the age of 33. A month shy of turning 34.
She jumped on the therapy couch like Tom Cruise did on Oprah’s couch.
Yes, that high too.
She started to open that bottle cap twist by twist. Some days it hurt the palm of her hand. The lid being so tight to twist or turn.
This unfamiliar face wasn’t like what she was shown decades prior.
This unfamiliar face was someone she felt safe with. Someone who got her to reach mountain tops she didn’t know existed.
Hurt her to the core yet she’s never given up.

If there’s a journal entry this grown woman could write to the 11 yr old girl in 1996, it’d go as deep as this –

Brave, that’s what you are. Even when the world was ugly. When the human race was trying to knock you down. Trying to cover you up with such disgusting words.
Beautiful, inside and out.
Even when you were covered with such hatred from the outside noise. You stood your solid ground. You marched to your own beat – even when those footsteps burned.

I’m here to tell you, young girl, you did it!
We did it! We put our front foot forward & kept marching. Look how stunning it all came about?
Yes, there were hazard lights in your way, yet you pushed till you couldn’t push anymore.
Your time has come, little one. You can rest your feet. Rest your mind. Keep your head held high & not turning back every few seconds trying to dodge those bullets.
You can unclench your jaw & release your shoulders. I got it from here.
You are safe. Safe from unfamiliar faces & their way of reaching for your dreams.
I got you. And I’m not letting you go. I can’t.

To that 11 yr old little girl who walked life with a full bottle – dump that expired liquid out. There’s no room for such where we’re headed. Plastic bottles are not allowed. Glass bottles are dangerous.
I love you. Let’s go crush this thing called life with our voices loud. So loud, it sounds as if a siren is going off in the firehouse. You deserve it.

Did you envision all of that?

Such clarity it brought this grown woman whose reaching 40. Letting her younger self know she’s worth it – always has been worth it – was everything. Brought proudness to her heart.

Picture this,
It’s the year 2025 & she’s more relaxed than she could ever wish for – thanks to her grown woman whose reaching 40.

Until we meet again! ♡

Writing Score 100%