Stress trickles down to the least powerful and so we wear the bruises both physical and emotional.
The bruise comes bold and bright, and there are moments I am tempted to put armour on. That is not my role in this world. If I put on such things I cannot be as flexible as I need to be, or climb so high or so fast. Yet there are only so many I can absorb before I need to find a safe place for rest and recovery to full health. You'd think folks would take care of their rescuers - they seldom do. The psyche seeks to please the dominant and blame the loving softer ones. That is the way in a dog-eat-dog world. This is how tyrants rise, why they have followings and supporters. The primitive brain rules them, seeks safety, then commands the higher brain to construct a rationale to support and defend it, to find the "scapegoats."
This spreading purple with yellow blotches is only the surface wound. The real one is within, that feeling of betrayal, that breaking of trust that is so essential to true love. For what we love, we protect, right? I know that in the moment you were reacting, locked down into your primitive brain, that when you come back to your senses, when you are responsive, able to use your higher thoughts, you are the one I love. Yet these wounds, the real bruises within, when they have healed I will seek safety with someone who has never caused me such pain, a person I can love and be loved by, sharing a bright and happy future.
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