damage

I mean no harm.

I like to think I am more dangerous to myself than to others, but you have thrown me. You have drawn me in an image that I do not recognise which is only appropriate as you do not recognise yourself in what I write.

Perhaps I am a bad person. Your message to me has made me question my own intentions.

I meant no harm. I can only repeat this mantra but it doesn't fix things.

Please let me learn from this. Please let me change into someone made of soft foam. Someone who bounces off the people in this world effortlessly, breaking no one. But we never change. We die the way we are born. We are tight packed unflinching piles of personality. I hunker down to my fate.

So I read your message and I fall apart again and I remember what being apart is like. I was apart so often when I brushed up against you. I cry, publicly, humiliatingly, ugly red eyes and cheeks flamed with embarrassment. I wonder if I should have walked away from therapy before this scene played out. I wonder how many more scenes I will have to live through. The girl who hates to be touched will be pummeled. All the people I have ever butted up against each with their thing to say, each with their hands reaching out to slap or hug or push me.

I meant no harm. Know this now. I meant no harm. I meant no harm.