(Let the Child Speak, from Fearless Moral Inventory, by Juliet A. Wright, copyright 2010, all rights reserved.)
Who is the inner child? Cathryn L. Taylor, author of The Inner Child Workbook, describes the inner child or inner children as “the voices inside you that carry the feelings you were unable to express as a child.”[1]
My inner child is the real me, the one that was squashed into the corner when I was little. The one that was scared and screamed at by my dad to be perfect all the time. She is who I really am. And she is wise. She is a part of God. But she gets ignored a lot. After a while, this really ticks her off. My inner child gets to the point where she will not be ignored anymore.
I have done quite a bit of inner child work, and it has been some of the most difficult, yet rewarding. I’m learning who I am and how I feel by doing this work. It’s my true self revealed. I wrote my song Let the Child Speak about this very subject.
I first started doing inner child work with my therapist. It was then that I discovered this sometimes scared, angry, frustrated, sad, lonely little girl. This little girl thinks she has to be perfect to be okay. This little girl thinks she has to earn her right to be. If she makes mistakes, she is less than. She has no self-esteem. She thinks everything she does is wrong.
It is through this inner child work that I uncovered my memories about Grandpa Roman that I spoke of earlier in this book.
Yes, she feels all the feelings on Juliet’s Feelings List on a regular basis.
[1] Cathryn L. Taylor, The Inner Child Notebook: What to do with your past when it won’t go away. (New York: Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, 1991), p. 1.
In this entry, written in April 2014, I explore the recent heroin epidemic in Vermont. I relate the search for a solution to my desperate search for a miracle cure for Zeb’s cancer. One of the reasons I was so desperate at this point in time is because the vaccine he had received, which we were all so hopeful would cure him, had failed. He was out of treatment options, his tumor was growing again, and he was going downhill rapidly. He died a month after I wrote this piece.
There is a heroin epidemic that’s plaguing my beautiful home state of Vermont. It has been all over the news. “Junk” is everywhere and just about everyone is doing it, the news reporters say. In fact, rehab centers are turning people away and telling them to keep using until a bed opens up!
Imagine a young girl running down the street. She is asking everyone she sees, “You got a fix? I need a fix.” She repeats this over and over. She owes her dealer so he’s cut her off. She is desperate. She is a junkie. The big H has become her God. She can’t live without it. Getting and using stuff is now her full-time job.
Now imagine this same girl running down the road. Only now she is not looking for a fix. She is looking for a cure for cancer. “You got a cure, you got a cure?” She repeats this over and over to everyone she sees. She is desperate to help her family.
You got a cure?
No cure.
Now she is running down the road looking for a prayer. “Can you pray, will you pray?”
She is seeking to get the God in them to save her brother-in-law and her poor sister who cares for him. If she just gets enough people to pray, she can surely fix it. She can save him and her sister too. She can control the world. She can fix it!
Look at this girl. Look at what her codependency is doing to her. It is killing her the way H is killing young people in this beautiful rural state. “Can you save my brother? I think if you can pray one more time, you can save him. Can you pray for a new brain?”
I can’t say I was that person exactly, but I sure wasn’t far off. That pretty much describes my behavior for the past 14 months. Begging every person I knew to pray for him, trying to save him. He is my brother, I love him. Deep down, to save my family of origin, my sister, to save her from pain and anguish, especially after what she had just been through with Mom. Trying to save her. Trying to fix her. Trying to make it okay. Trying to play God.
Now this is where I am. I am still trying to fix it, save it, fix her, save her, fix him, save him. I am feeling their feelings. I feel their despair. And when I’m not feeling it, I’m telling myself I should be. Most of the time I don’t need to do that. Feeling their despair comes naturally. It’s as natural as flicking on a light switch. I have had years of training in taking on the feelings of others.
Here are my codependency patterns, which were running wild:
If you hurt. I hurt; I think I have to fix you.
Your moods and actions are my fault.
I don’t know what I need. I focus on what you need.
I am obsessed with making you happy, with saving you.
My fear of abandonment and fear of rejection determine how I behave.[1]
I feel what they feel. I need to detach. It doesn’t have to be about drugs, alcohol or gambling, men or sex. It can just be that you love someone and you want them to be well. You want to fix something that you can’t fix, change something that you can’t change, and that lack of power sends you into despair and affects everything in your life. There’s this big, thick grey cloud hanging over your head. You wake up and think, “There’s that feeling again.”
Pretty soon, it’s not just obsession with my brother who has cancer and I’m taking on his despair, and my sister’s feelings. Now a little boy at one of my schools died and I have to feel what those parents are feeling too. Then I hear about the mudslide in Washington state and what about the people in that area? I have to feel what they’re feeling too. And what about the people in Malaysia who are waiting for news of their loved ones on that missing plane? Where is that flipping plane anyway? And the people at the hospital in North Adams, Massachusetts! The hospital is closed and they’ve all lost their jobs. Now I have to feel their feelings and fix them too? Better put them on the list. And another friend has a lung that is collapsing. This is going to kill me!!
This is enough to drive me to insanity. This is when my life has become unmanageable. This is when I need to come to CoDA. I need to detach with love and start to take care of myself. The only thing I have control over is how I react to what’s happening.
All of this drove me to exhaustion, depression, selfishness, and despair, and it ruined one of my Sunday worships at Quaker Meeting to the point that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to go to my Quaker Meeting anymore. The thought of that sent me even further into my despair spiral, the idea of not being able to see my spiritual family. (I was falling asleep in Quaker Meeting, which is a no-no. A member of the Meeting spoke to me about it and I was mortified. My falling asleep was a result of my exhaustion, mostly due to my insanity over the situation with my family of origin.)
Soon I am thinking, How can I fix this, how can I change it, who can I call? I’m desperate… help me help me help me. No answer, no answer. No one is home.
So what’s the answer? For Juliet, it means I need to work my program. I need to admit my powerlessness over others, cancer, disasters, disease, and death. I need to give it to God. I need to humble myself before him, admit that I am out of control, and that I need help. I need to get to a meeting, write out some step work and read it to my sponsor. I need to let go of what’s not mine and give it back to its owner. There is a God and it is not me. I need to take the focus off of others and put it back on myself. I need to admit my powerlessness over my enmeshment.
Slogan:
I can’t, God can. I think I’ll let him.
Admitting powerlessness is half the battle. Just admitting to God that I am out of control and powerless over these obsessions, feelings, control and compliance patterns helps it ease up. Suddenly the pressure is off. Someone pressed the pause button and I can breathe in and out. I can figure out my hand position and get my bow straight before they press the play button again. I can let go. I write out my steps. I read them to my sponsor. Suddenly the current is back flowing in the right direction and I’m going with it. Breathe. Just breathe. Give every breath to God. It’s okay. I’m not driving the boat. None of us are. God is driving the boat. God bless the 12 Steps. Breathe, just breathe. Live every day in gratitude. And let go. Just let go.
It was good for me to be afflicted
So that I might learn your decrees.
~ Psalm 119:71 (NIV)
If there’s one thing that Zeb’s illness and death has taught me, it is that I must trust God. There’s no other option.
I started keeping a Gratitude List early on in my recovery. I had started working the 12 Steps with a sponsor, and she had me start a Gratitude List as a part of my recovery. One of my assignments was to add five things to my Gratitude List every day. Sometimes I added ten.
I now have a Gratitude List that has more than 645 items on it. That’s pretty darned cool for someone who always saw the dark, pessimistic side of life.
I always feel better after reading and adding to my Gratitude List. It helps me get out of my obsession and depression. I have even gotten to the point where I can be thankful for some of the most challenging events in my life.
I have everything on my list from God to Green Mountain Coffee Roasters. I have things on it like “the sound of my brook.” I have items on my list that are repeated. Who cares? It’s my list. I can have it any way I want. God is on there a bunch of times. Silly things are on there too, such as “being in front of the bus, not behind,” and “big fat kitting needles.” It’s great.
I will continue to read my list at least a couple of times a week and add things to it as often as I can.
I have mentioned slogans already here and there in the book. On my recovery tool list, slogans have been right up near the top with positive affirmations. They have helped me to get back on track when I’m upset or obsessing about a problem, or feeling lost because of something that’s going on in my life.
Slogans help me keep things in perspective. They help me get back into focus with reality. And this is not my reality but God’s reality and what’s really true in His plan.
They help me realize that it’s okay for me to take care of myself. It’s okay for me to say no. I need to sleep when I’m tired. I need to eat when I’m hungry. It’s okay for me to take a break.
The slogans also remind me that I don’t have to do it alone. God is there to help and he should come first.
I like to type up the slogans and put them all over the house. I think they help me to keep focused on God, His plan and what is real, instead of what’s going on in my own compulsive, obsessive head.
On this webpage, http://webpages.charter.net/jlbond/slogans.htm, you’ll find 400 Alcoholics Anonymous slogans. (Again, AA is another 12 Step Program, and its approach is actually the foundation for Codependent Anonymous.)
I wrote this song as a story about a person who is searching for relief of their hurt and pain. I have used food, alcohol and the opinions of others to stop the pain I feel inside. In the final resolution I find relief from my pain in my relationship with God and in his Word. My food addiction started when I was a child. That is what I used to make the pain go away, specifically pizza and coffee ice cream. I remember eating until I was uncomfortably full, and would feel bad about myself. But for a while, it numbed me out. The pain went away. When I got older, I would occasionally use alcohol to numb myself out and make the pain go away.
The inspiration for my verse on alcohol came from an experience I had at my local YMCA. I was getting ready to pull into the driveway for my early morning swim, and a young woman flagged me down, asking for help. It was about 6:00 am. She said she needed help, that someone had left her there and she was stranded. I led her up to the YMCA. She was clearly very strung out on something, probably not alcohol, probably opioids.
When she came in the door she started rummaging around in the lost and found for a sweatshirt. I said “I think those belong to people.” Then she said she was really thirsty and needed something to drink. I asked her who left her there and she pointed to the tattoo on her chest. That is where the line “There’s no more tattoo of you on my soul, comes from.” At that point I kind of selfishly left her with the very kind person at the front desk.
Eventually a police car and an ambulance came and she got some help.
In my recovery I have sought and continue to seek help from my therapist and sponsor. I get relief there too, from pain, but it is a good relief. Recovery is hard work, but I am learning new behaviors that work better for me and I am slowly learning to love myself. I am learning that I am a good person who deserves love and who doesn’t have to believe all of the lies that my inner critic tells me.
In the bridge I sing about the work I do in recovery to deal with my past so that I can change my behaviors and move on. I do have feelings but they don’t have to drive the bus. I must feel them, but I can do that, do the journaling, stepwork and other recovery work I need to do to face it and move on. As they say, Jesus has dropped the charges. I am free from my past.
The last verse brings me home to God, his Word and my salvation. I cannot express how much comfort and strength that I find in God’s word. I always have his love. And the more I read that book, the stronger my faith is. That, in combination with my daily silent worship and journaling, are slowly turning me into the person God wants me to be. That is where the real relief from the pain comes from. It is better than any ice cream, alcohol, or worldly approval could provide.
Here are the lyrics.
Searching For Numbness
I wasn’t even hungry but somehow I ate it all,
searching for ice cream.
Searching for the sweetness,
Searching for numbness,
Begging for the exit.
Avoiding the truth.
Trying not to feel
Frozen, dazed lump.
I need something to dull my senses
Like I’m dazed, in shock
My sun is down yet it is day.
Joy has left the world for good.
I’ve been found out.
Declared guilty.
Everyone knows it.
abandoned forever.
I need something
To take this pain away.
I wasn’t even thirsty, but somehow I drank it all
Searching for whiskey
Searching for the sweetness
Searching for numbness,
Begging for the exit.
Avoiding the truth.
Trying not to feel
Sauced drunken soak.
Drunk with anger and shame.
Dear God I’m a shipwreck
Without a rescue
Strung out and coming down hard
Needy and clinging.
Stopping traffic
And the stranger on the street.
Somebody help
God I’m so thirsty
Give me some more
Take me away
In a hearse headed for hell
I was completely desperate and somehow I called them all
If you could walk a mile in your enemies shoes, he
Wouldn’t be your enemy anymore.
Resentments
Drawn and Quartered.
And then it’s done.
Until the next time.
My defect that I thought I shredded
And buried in four places
Like Braveheart
Has sewn itself back together and is running away
With my life
When I’m obsessing.
In my despair I’m saying
Not again.
If you could walk a mile in your enemies shoes
She wouldn’t. be your enemy anymore.
Even if that enemy is yourself.
Obsession
Drawn and Quartered
And then it’s done
Until the next time.
I only fail if I quit trying.
Expect miracles.
Sometimes it’s
Possible to change.
(With God’s help)
My defect that I thought I shredded
And buried in four places
Like Braveheart
Has sewn itself back together and is
Throwing things across my car
When I’m angry.
In my rage I’m saying
You got me again.
If you could walk a mile in your healer’s shoes
She wouldn’t be your healer anymore.
Rage
Drawn and Quartered.
And then it’s done.
Until the next time.
I only fail if I quit trying
Liquid gold peace
Like a serenity concerto
Copyright 2019 Juliet A Wright.
All rights reserved.
This is yet another song that I wrote while spending time at my beloved Tanglewood. It is such a spiritual and creative place for me. The high quality music performed by talented artists is very inspiring. Plus the program notes gives you all of this really interesting information about what was going on with the composers when they wrote the material, how they wrote it, etc.
Anyway, this song addresses some of my defects of character. I treat them as if they are living beings that I battle and put rest, only to find them at me once again. They seem to resurrect themselves when I least expect it and overtake me before I know what is happening. “I thought I was done with that…” I would think to myself. I had seen the movie Braveheart years ago and seem to remember that they cut him up in four pieces and buried him. I liked the image of doing that to my defects of character, such as rage, obsessiveness and resentments. My anger seems to appear quite often in the car. Anyone who has ever lived in Los Angeles can probably understand that. I had hopes of ridding myself of them forever in this manner.
Of course this didn’t happen. It’s too bad we can’t just change our behavior as easily as turning off a light switch, but it doesn’t happen that way, at least it doesn’t happen that way for me. I take two steps forward, one step back, try again, one step forward, two steps back, and on. But I only fail if I quit trying. As long as I am still in the ring, giving it my best shot, then that is the best I can do and my best is good enough. I keep trying. And the moments of serenity that I experience are well worth the hard work.
This song has been recorded on my latest CD, Acoustic Songs of Recovery and Worship.
Please check out my YouTube channel. Also make sure you check out this website, www.hiddenangel.net, where you can purchase my books, audio books and CD’s of my music.
I wrote “No More Plastic World” largely while walking at Tanglewood. It is one of my favorite places. It is a place where I can go to breathe, relax and be close to nature and music at the same time.
This song is about my trials in materialistic, traffic-ridden Los Angeles and its skin-deep inhabitants. In this song my inner child and I choose the simple life, comfortable with just being ourselves.
I moved to Los Angeles to make it in the music business. When I arrived there, I quickly learned that looks were everything in this town. It was virtually all that mattered. Since I didn’t look that great at the time, this was a problem. I quickly began dying my hair, caking on the make up, where padded bras and skimpy clothes, everything that my band leaders indicated was required for us to draw in customers, get them to buy booze, buy albums, pick up people, whatever.
They wanted me to be
A perfect entity
I tried
To fit into their mold.
Who in the world are you
Looking back at me
I’m wearing their charms
And you’ve hid your face from me
I am lost
They’ve banished me.
Their hearts are cold
It’s plain to see
Take off their charms
Give back the key
This is not your destiny.
And I never said how I felt. That was banned in my family and banned in LA too. You just pretended to be okay. I tried to fit into their mold, look like they wanted me to look. But it didn’t work and didn’t fit me. And even after years and years of trying, when I started to look like I thought they wanted me to look, it didn’t make any difference anyway. I was still in the same place I was when I started.
Meanwhile, my inner child was being squashed by all of this. She was getting sick and tired of it too. Everyone once in a while she would explode in a volcanic rage as if to say “Stop ignoring me.”
And what did I want out of life? Or what did I think I wanted? Love, fame, fortune. I wanted people to love me so I could love myself. I was looking outside of myself for love, satisfaction, approval. Typical co-dependent. So God said, “No more.”
“Letting go, of all I wanted.
For God took my dreams away. Eliminating my false prophets. Now He’s in the lead to stay.”
The focus of my life needs to be on God and what he wants for my life. It’s about what he wants, not what I want.
The last verse is about a car accident I had on the 405 Freeway. It was the second Saturday in December, one of the biggest party nights of the year. I was on my way to a gig. Coffee in hand, I still managed to fall asleep at the wheel and plow into an old Dodge. Thankfully, the old Dodge and his driver had virtually no damage and he was fine. My new Toyota truck wasn’t so lucky. I felt horrible about it, falling completely into shame. My spouse was not sympathetic at all at the time. I was bad. I was wrong. That is how my inner child and I felt.
Another mess made in a flash
Guess what I’ve failed again.
I have exposed my sin.
I’m not good enough
To fit his mold
This is the end
His heart is cold.
But now, my focus is on God, my Lord by my side and in my heart. My inner child is no longer being ignored and if I forget, she lets me know it. God had to take away my false idols of looks, fame, fortune, a marriage I worshipped, a town I lived in to which I did not belong.
I thought it was fitting to do this video today as I am recovering from an allergy to eye make up and can’t wear any make up at all for two weeks. If I put my money where my mouth is, I am comfortable about this. I can’t totally say that I feel very vulnerable right now. But here I am. This is me.
Please check out my website, www.hiddenangel.net where you can purchase my books, Everything is My Fault, Everything is for My Recovery, and my CD’s, Beloved, Fearless Moral Inventory, and my latest CD, which contains this song, No More Plastic World, Acoustic Songs of Recovery and Worship.
On one typical Friday evening, I sat in my Los Angeles home office feeling exhausted and depressed. I started thinking about the silly looking marble fireplace in my living room. Not only was it ugly, heavy, and leaning, but it was placed right next to some sad-looking wood paneling. What person thought that looked good? I got up, approached the fireplace, gave the marble a cold icy stare, and decided that it was just too ugly for me. It had to be destroyed instantly. So I went to Home Depot and bought the necessary tools of demolition. I took the workman’s plastic, covered the floor with it, and taped the plastic off. Then I put on my protective gloves and goggles, grabbed my beautiful new sledgehammer, took a deep breath, and started smashing the crap out of the marble. It came off the wall just like it should have. I screamed while I did it. What wonderful stress release that was! Fantastic! I highly recommend something like this for getting out one’s aggression in a safe way. Plus, I got rid of something in my home that had been bugging me.
I immediately emailed my best pal Doris and told her: “Man, you have to try this!!!”
Underneath that wretched marble was a beautiful wooden mantle. Who in their right mind would ever cover that up?
Sledgehammer therapy worked really well for me. If I need to do it again, I will find something that needs to be destroyed, grab my sledgehammer, and just start bashing the dickens out of it. What a release! Of course, I’ll make sure I’m hitting an object, like my barn that is falling down for example, not a person or an animal. And I’ll always wear gloves and the safety goggles!
Wright, Juliet. Everything Is My Fault: One Woman’s Journey Through Co-Dependency. Pownal, VT:Hidden Angel Publishing, 2012.
I wrote this song originally as part of an assignment for a class I was taking. This was a class for teachers that was taught through a museum. The objective was to learn ways to integrate visual art into your teaching curriculum. For the assignment we had to take two artworks we had seen during the class and create another artwork based on those works. So I chose two paintings that I liked and wrote a song.
This song is loosely based on a ghost story that takes place in a restaurant during the prohibition period. In this tale a woman has an adulterous affair with a musician. The woman disappears, and comes back as a ghost, haunting the restaurant and bar where they used to hang out. In my version, the musician disappears, leaving the woman imprisoned inside her obsession with this man and their long lost love. In recovery terms she has made this man and the memory of their love, her God, and can’t let go.
Here are the lyrics.
The Ghost of You version 1
Words and music by Juliet Wright
verse 1:
High upon a cliff,
in 1927
rum runners put down roots
for the hair of the dog and a dance
Lonely lady spellbound
Your music was her playmate
into the night you danced
the lonely lovers dance
Verse 2:
In your arms
And under your spell
The garment of your soul was hers
Under summers restless sky
Her betrothed feared his wife’s cup
Overflowed with sin
Her tousled hair confessed
She would taste of it again
Prechorus:
Now the path beside the shore
Only whispers of your name
She walks it in the night
She’ll never be the same
Chorus 1:
The ghost of you’s as real
As the blood stains on her dress
She feels you fingers on her skin
To God she must confess
Chorus 2:
The ghost of you is as scrumptious
As the sea salt on you skin
She tastes it like it was yesterday
The dream state she is in.
Verse 3:
Bad debts and cheating
Run out of town
Gone without a trace
Your fingers in too many pies
They took you from this place.
And so you left
Without goodbye
No forwarding address
Were they promises or lies?
You left her in distress.
Verse 4:
Never to be seen again
The whites of your dark eyes
They covered their tracks well
You were gone before sunrise
She wanders the road and hits the bars
Begging for news of your return
It’s everyone’s big secret
No one says a word.
Prechorus:
Now the breeze along the shore
Only hints of your cologne
One breath of it is just enough
She no longer feels alone.
Chorus 3:
The ghost of you’s as sweet
As her finger dipped in honey
In her dreams she tastes (feels) the heat
and satisfies her longing.
Chorus 4:
The ghost of you’s as real
As the whiskey on her breath
She rattles on about yesterday
To the corpses on her left.
Bridge:
The nightmare that she never shares
from the darkness of the night
she sees your car go off the cliff
your headlights take flight.
she knows her dream was real
you never will return
except in her fantasies
Her memories will burn.
Verse 5:
Now she sits on the
Bed in the morning
And it’s one more day to hope
To pretend you’ll return
With reality she can’t cope.
If she just keeps asking
The answers will comply
‘til then she’ll occupy the bar
and sickly wonder why.
Prechorus:
Now the path beside the shore
Only whispers of your name
She walks it in the night
She’ll never be the same
Chorus 5: The ghost of you’s as real
As the wrinkles on her face
She drinks hard to be rid of them
Her skin as white as lace
The ghost of you’s as fresh
As the guitarist on the stage
Her drunken eyes pretend it’s you
Trapped in yesterdays cage.
Words and Music by Juliet Wright, copyright 2013, all rights reserved.
This song is about letting go of the past, of relationships and behaviors that don’t work, arriving on the other side of grief, and finally being willing to accept life on life’s terms.
I started writing this song a couple of years ago, after a phone call with my ex. I had gone into that mode of wondering what he thought of me, mulling over the past, our struggles, painful memories, wondering why things turned out the way they did. I was not getting stuck, but on the verge for sure. And it’s not like I’m wanting to turn back time, because I really like my life the way it is now, and am so grateful for everything God has given me. I have a great life. But the thoughts and patterns of thinking and feeling were there, so I wrote down some lyrics about it.
As the song developed, I added lyrics about defects of character that can tend to take over my life, like my obsessiveness, caretaking and over responsibility. I can obsess about people, worry about them, thinking that I am responsible for them and that it is my job to fix their lives and make them happy. I do this with one friend in particular. This leads to answering the phone when I’m too tired, it’s too late here, and then I am resentful, grumpy. This is my issue. I need to change this habit. This is my behavior pattern that doesn’t serve anyone involved, myself or the other person. I need to learn to not answer the phone when it doesn’t serve me, when it is too late, or whatever, and take care of myself. I am just as important as the other person.
I also can tend to get caught up in what others think of me, especially when it comes to my song writing, performing, books I’ve written and my teaching. I guess that is almost everything! But as my sponsor and therapist have taught me, what other people think of me is none of my business, even if it is good.
The last verse addresses my memories of the past and whether or not they are accurate. Do I cloud my memories with my feelings that still linger, as well as my feelings about myself? In the end I vow that it is indeed time to let go of the past, which includes my old behavior patterns and old negative tapes that play in my head, usually the inner critic, who is still urging me to feel bad about myself.
Here is the song again.
Are You Ready Now
Verse 1
After all this time
Visions of you cross my mind
An unkind word, cold shoulder
Sends me back
Familiar pain
Like a knife to my heart.
Prechorus 1:
So it’s the 19th song
And the 21st page
Why not they say, it just gets better with age
So I keep trying to dump my past
And make a life that’s meant to last
Chorus 1:
Are you ready now.
Are you ready now to let go.
Are you ready now.
Are you ready now to let go.
Verse 2:
So I find myself
Obsessed with you
For the 27th time
It’s what I do.
If you paint the devil on the wall
And he appears before us all.
Daring us to take the fall.
Prechorus 2:
So for the 50th time
I answer the phone
To hear you complain
When I’d rather be alone
But that would make me selfish
I am just a fly
And you’re the butterfly.
Chorus 2:
Are you ready now.
Are you ready now to let go.
Are you ready now.
Are you ready now to let go.
Bridge:
What do you think of me?
opinions on tap
When will I ever learn
My self worth
Is not determined by you.
Verse 3:
Is my memory of you
Clouded by my own
Desires?
I read between the lines of your life
Hidden secrets
pain and strife
not my battle to fight.
Prechorus 3:
I Finally put my dreams to bed
And vow to keep you out of my head.
I’ll be just fine, as long as I remember
That I too, am a butterfly.
Chorus 3:
I am ready now.
I am ready now.
I am ready now.
To let go.
Words and music by Juliet A. Wright,
Copyright, 6/20/19
All rights reserved.
If you like what you have heard today, I hope you will subscribe to my channel and visit my Hidden Angel Records and Hidden Angel Publishing website, www.hiddenangel.net, where you can purchase one of my books or cd’s listen to song samples, and check out my blog. You can also check out our Hidden Angel Publishing Facebook page.
