[We are the feeders of betrayal to the self.]
We slap the self
And scream until the red shows,
Hatred, Worthlessness, Accusation
Until the self, whimpering, cowering,
Draws itself to the wall and trembles.
Then, gently,
We draw the self up-
Our hands laid against its cheeks
And whisper consolation,
Comfort, Strength, Pleading
Kissing the self tenderly until the hurt goes away
And the self sighs, relieved,
Lets its body fall tiredly against our own
In warm, exhausted devotion.
[Then we slap the self again.]
















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