Borderline


Her borderlines were distorted
and so were mine.
She was lost in pain
and I was a prisoner of my agony.

I was her mirror,
a mirror of buried grief
and I mirrored it well.
She was my mirror,
a mirror of buried grief
and she mirrored it well.

I did not recognize the scary girl
who was terrified of herself,
who was afraid of her own reactions
and wanted to be rescued from her sadness.

I tried to love her,
but when I touched her pain
as gently as I could,
hells opened.

I know now she was not ready
to meet herself,
to see the wounds of her past.
I know now the only way to love her
was to leave her alone in her pain,
to quit this absurd dance of
Rescue me! Go to hell!

I know now I needed her
to see myself,
to see the wounds of my soul.
I know now the only way for me
was to heal my pain,
to quit this absurd dance of
Rescue me! Go to hell!

I trust her,
I trust this Life
and I trust my God.
I pray someday she would be one
of the happiest people in the world.

I used to secretly cry,
but now I see the sings of healing
slowly arising in her life
as they arose in my life.
She will do it.
She will be one of the happiest
people in the world.



Wounds of Love

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