she may love you,
and then again she may not.
but that is not the point.
they may hate you,
and in their hatred try to break you.
but that is not the point.
the point is seeing yourself
and knowing that you are looking upon yourself as you truly are,
whether she is there or not,
whether their rage blows through you like a breath of flame
or not.
the point is walking with yourself in the light.
these words are slipping away as quickly as they came to me
i was walking through the house singing them
and now they have fallen off my fingers
what is the point? the point?
the point? is being honest with yourself and with your family.
letting the thing that has been hidden within you, by you
(starved, chained, feared, buried)
letting it step forward for the first time
hold its withered hands forward as it blinks blindly into the sun
let it know that it’s ok
it doesn’t have to live at the bottom of your well anymore.
it can run and sing and dance,
and for the first time it can be you
because
it is you
and
you are it.
stop walking away, turn back!
open the door! lead it out!
let everyone else walk away!
let everyone else cling to their illusions!
meet yourself—
your entire self—
for the first time.
she may love you,
and then again she may not.
but at least you will be free.
Crabaghast! 