They Told Me

They told me it was me.
I already knew. 

They told me to believe. 
In God. In anything.

They told me to let go.

Trust was dead. Too much pain. 
Take it away. 
I’ll believe you when it’s gone.  

They told me to forgive. 
Unfair. Impossible rage. They did it. 
They did it first. 

They taught me how to grieve.
Holes grew in the anger and tears fell through. 
Relief. It regenerates.

They told me to repeat.
Dedication to the only thing possible, 
The process and their way
Why? Why is it this way?

They told me to see lies. 
The programs, hidden, the programs, again
The programs, hidden. The programs. Again. 

They told me to speak truth. 
Change the lies that I could see.
A language made of magic.
The magic mostly speaks.

They told me that they loved me.
That I could love myself. 
You said that I was safe
To  show myself to someone else.

A new chapter of rage.  
But you said you understood
You said that was okay.
No matter what I’d done.

You showed me more than told me.
While we sat and drank our coffee, 
we really walked the thousand miles
Of setting a soul free.