After sharing my piece "A Response to Those Who Lack Compassion,"
a new friend asked me if it was true.
I realized that everything is true.
And it must be the reason why I am afraid of sharing my poetry with those who are extremely close to me. One day, I'll be able to share what I do with my mother, but for now I live in peace with myself.
A new friend apologizes for my rape. I tell her, thank you, but it's fine. This is why I do what I do. There is a language between two people that may never be exchanged, but the gift of saving a life is one I've devoted myself to giving.
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