are you gonna put your pain in a telescope,
turn the knob, clear the image, and begin
to relive something so far behind you
that 1000x magnification is needed to
detect the soft outlines of its arc?
stars are only pretty when they sparkle far away.
is your plan to place that insult on a microscope slide,
those small words from that small person,
and twist-turn the wheels and line it up right
so you can see inside all of its mitochondrial spite?
don't flagellate yourself with the cruelty of others, kid.
would you rather dig a hole with your past mistakes, and then
keep on digging till the walls cave in above you,
because you think it's too late for forgiveness and
past due for love, and there's no one who will accept you
without judgment, without disdain, without changing you first?
quit using those old bones to dig your grave. let them rest, and rise up.
or will you help me find my way back to self-respect,
so that i'm not ashamed every time I look in the mirror,
every time i hear myself speak, every time i remember how
i never told any of the women i loved that i loved them?
i don't want to make the same mistake with you.