Write something honest.
Write something true.
For you. I know it's hard.
I know it hurts.
I know you're terrified and shaking,
I know the words feel sick in your mouth and *******,
I don't want to be sick, I don't want to be here,
but you must.
We must.

Keep writing.
No,
Focus.
Focus on me, baby.
Focus on your fingers,
your tongue tracing the words behind your teeth.
Focus on the rhythm, the cadence of keys clicking,
the calm of a storm having raged.
Having sought, having not found and broken, but still breathing.
You are still breathing, aren't you?
Am I?

*******,
**** me for thinking this was a good idea.
No, wait.
Don't say that just yet.
Don't surrender before the fighting's begun.
Don't look if you never planned to leap.
Don't preach with no intent to prac-
No. You, Wait.
You sit and ******* wait awhile.

There.
Where I can see you.

Don't pretend that pretending isn't what we're good at.
What we're made for.
Don't spill your secrets like the world will thank you.
The world doesn't give a ****.
The world doesn't care,
about your slights, your dreams, your fantasies.
No one gives a **** about your hopes.
No one's going to cry along with you, so stop it.
Shut up.
Honesty is for the virtuous,
and we, have all of us sinned,
again and again.
Your vulnerability supposes anyone would care to read...
Why?
When we'd all rather write?