I hope you’re all right.
I know you’ve got a head on your shoulders
and you generally do
what is best
but I worry sometimes
that you’re not as secure
as I wish you were.

This happens to everyone.
You’ll never become the woman
you’re destined to be
if I don’t let the little girl run free
but if I had to choose between a limited
scared defeated child
and one wiped from the earth
I would take the former.
I would rather see half your glory
than have you stolen from me
completely.

Still
I let you out.
I free you from your leash
and I sit
and I wait
and I wonder
and I worry
that this might be the night
you’ll not come back.

You always have
so far.