I don't promise insight, so take this vulnerability

There's something ugly in mistakes and I am going to let them see

on purpose. They're nervous for

bad anecdotal jokes and blank notes, rote comfort buy the hour.

Tear the paper, self-deprecation, 'here's your copy', I've not showered. I'm- 

It's awkward so I'll wait and tolerate the silence and try it

on. I will let them be wrong, through quiet,

through clenched teeth around an intervention. It's fine.

This permission isn't mine

to regift, it's to remind them that they have it.

I can make no promises that it's less shitty after this.

Just before progress, its worst

I will say when I am wrong no matter how it hurts.

Here's something true:

There is one person in one room who will fight for them,

that doesn't want to lie to them, someone that listens,

somebody with intentions they don't weaponize,

someone reliable and liable, someone who's tired of tired like them

someone that's growing, somebody trying, someone who

needs them too.

There is joy.