letting go

Should I count the ways you made me cry?
They say God counts every tear as precious,
But that means he counted yours, too.  
I guess that means I must forgive you.  
 
How many evils have you seen and held close?
Things haunt you in your sleep.
I've heard you cry, and I've held you tight.  
I whispered to you that you'd be alright.  
 
I've heard shameful things about you
In the winds of small town whispers.  
Fear nestles itself in my chest  
When I remember the secrets you would confess.  
 
I stand on guard for my family and my heart.  
Still, I think of you often.  
You are an unholy thing, tried and true,
Yet I still had a love deep inside for you.