A New Friend

I know a compulsive rescuer
It's not what I would have said
But then, when I say I know her
What I mean is I know something of her
As does she of me of course

And there's such comfort in knowing
That just as I know things of her
So she does of me and I let her
I let her see what I'm doing in a way
That many can't quite see

We write in a log and I feel I must
Each day update it regardless
And although I cringe and hesitate
There she is with her searing honesty
And it helps me so much

Vulnerablility is such a risk
To share, to expose those thoughts
How do you find a safe pair of hands
To hold secrets and wishes and dreams
Only by stepping off the cliff

And trusting even whilst falling
That the landing will be soft
That someone who writes of dogs
And of those who rob and hurt children
Can also be rescued by us.

3 comments:

  1. oh, this makes me feel so held, if that makes sense.

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  2. ps- i don't know if i ever showed you this but if not: http://mafaldas-daughter.blogspot.com/search?q=motel

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  3. that's exactly it, we all need to feel held.

    motel explains so much about why.

    the legacy of those experiences is that we all benefit from the resulting compulsion.

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