I have trouble believing in evil
Oh, I believe in evil people and people doing evil things
It's just that I have trouble with an actual thing called evil roaming through the world
But sometimes
There are so many incredible people here
So many unbelievably good people
Sensitive
Deep
Caring people
I wonder if evil was not forced to seek them out
The ones too good to be left alone
Drawn somehow to that child
That boy
That man
Who gives off some ray of innocence
who is surrounded by some field of good
I know, I know, so far fetched
But surely you have felt it here
Surely you have felt the good
The innocence, now wrapped in pain
An accident?
Or does pain somehow bring with it understanding?
Make us sensitive to another's anguish
Make us care because we needed cared for
And no one knew why
Or how much
But sometimes in the stories
And sometimes in the poetry
I sense the evil
Oh, so real
Sending shivers through me
And somehow understand
Maybe want to think?
That evil's what may have made my father do those things
It wasn't him
Not his fault
It was the evil using him to get to me
But, then, that's silly, isn't it?
Evil?
No, it couldn't be.
It's only cold that makes me shiver in the night.
_________________________
I'm healing now, and I wasn't sure I would.