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deb
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it's so easy to do,
casting all that hatred
and empty anger
upon the boychild
who corrupted me-
what's worse, though,
is to blame yourself-
"i could have run away"
"i could have said something"
"if i had only..."
"if i hadn't..."
somehow, it had to be my fault,
though-
somehow-
it's the only way
i can deal with all of this,
blaming myself-
and then i watch
good will hunting
and at the
"it's not your fault.
it's not your fault.
it's not your fault."
part,
i break down
in tears-
because it really wasn't.
and the movie moves along.
and i splash cold water
on my now-swollen eyes.
and i pretend
it didn't make me cry again.
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010114
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