Broken

So people hurt each other. If you don't want to be alone you are destined to hurt at least part of the time. But here is the thing. I have had angry screaming people in my face that didn't hurt me one bit. I stopped a big tall grieving man from running out of a hospital building once and as his body crashed with mine onto the floor it didn't really hurt me. No pain in childbirth compares to the pain I have experienced as a mother. No spanking ever hurt me the way a look of doubt or a discouraging word could from the same person I admired. The right broken person whispering to the right broken places can maim, lance, kill, and destroy a person. In order for someone to hurt me I have to be broken already. I have to be surprised by their actions, shocked, or shaken. I have to agree with something they have said or let their own poisonous lies cast doubt on what I hope to be true.