Come to me with secrets, with quiet guilty whispers,

head hung low, shuffling feet.

Come to me with stifled sobs, with naked shame,

and white teeth that bite your bottom lip.

Come to me.

Sweep your hair from your eyes,

steeple your hands in request.

Be willing.

Straighten your spine,

draw in a cleansing breath.

Be willing.

I cannot help you if you think we’re different.

You will not listen if  you see us as separate.

We are the same.

And you will know me when you look within.

You will understand when you recognize me there.

For we are the same.

And you were always welcome here.

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