If I could I would wrap you in cotton wool, safe,
and you would never need to know about when the world
is black, black, black and the rain clouds cover everything.
It would not help you, or anyone, if I gave in to this anger
and broke every finger on the hand that dared
to touch you in hurt.
Now it seems to you that things will never get better
and you think that I am being cruel
when I remind you that you are not the first.
You are better then this moment of broken
and sometime far into the future
you will call this an old memory,
For the moment it is okay that you are crying.
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