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Come Now,

all these people who have hurt us… hurt you …hurt me…
Parents, Lovers, tormenters, and others,
Brothers and Sisters, Rapists, and Molesters,
Bullies, Abusers, the creepy guy who followed you home one night, and the girl who never looked at you in high school,
Friends, and Enemies, and the ones who are gone.

All these people, but when you think of them, when you picture them in your mind, if you look into their imaginary faces, if you look into their eyes, don’t you see your reflection there?

Isn’t that what hurts? The loop closes, and you can’t stop seeing them. Can’t stop seeing yourself in their eyes, as they saw you.

I know, I can’t let go either.

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