I would just say it
Honestly, simply, publicly.
I would write it on the walls
In unrepentant spray paint:
It doesn't have to be this way
You're not broken
It's okay
If I didn't think you'd dig
Like a gossip rag journalist
Into my credentials
I'd tell you that love
Is so much greater than your wounds,
That God doesn't make
Anyone wrong,
That you don't have to hurt like this.
If I wasn't afraid that you're right,
That my own brokenness
Disqualifies me from speaking,
I would shout it
From a stack of fruit boxes
In front of the town hall.
I would tell you straight, and I would tell you loud:
You're okay
We can do this
No one is ever alone.
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