I want you to look at her. I mean really look at her.
At her core, at her rawest point I want you to look.
Do you hate it? Does it make you recoil from disgust?
Is it what you thought you would find?
Somehow, I doubt it.
I imagine what you see, and it’s not pretty. She’s not so good looking under all that skin.
She’s blackened, from sins she’s committed and the sins committed against her.
She is sad. So sad. From loss, from mistakes made, from self-doubt. She is sad.
She is reaching for you. She wants your help, and she wants you to know she misses your hand guiding her way.
She is distant. All the overspent emotions as of late have drained her of connection. There isn’t much left for her to give.
She is trying to move on. She is trying to pick herself back up and keep going, but it is so difficult, so trying. She is so tired.
She is more terrified of the good than the bad. The good is so foreign and fleeting. She doesn’t believe it to stay. The bad is comforting. It covers her until she is so small. So meek.
Can you see all of this? Or are you too unwilling and too prideful to see that you may have done this to her?
You could be at fault, you know.
But you will blame her. A little, yes, is her fault. She could’ve done things different, made different choices, dealt better.
The same goes for you.
Do not deceive yourself into thinking you didn’t do some of this.
Do not worry yourself, though I doubt you will.
She will get better. She will rise up. She will become strong again.
She will be gracious with her newfound light. Her beauty will course inside and out.
She will help those who have been where she was, even if it’s you, even if you don’t deserve it.
So when you look at her, and I mean really look at her, do not skim over her and continue on.
Stop. Stay a while. Help lift her back up.
For one day you will need her. And she will oblige.
Because she is stronger for it.