Your words once meant more to me than my next breath, until they didn’t. So well you did making that happen, through silence and invisibility, entered into, I assumed, for your own preservation, that you have seen to mine as well.
Till now that I, instead of hating you, thank you.
For what I once endured as a sign of your contempt, I now accept as a last act of love, unwitting. From which I emerge, knowing that, for both far better, and a little worse, I will never be the same.
© Copyright 2015 Bill Friday