The little things

Stranger

I may be a stranger to you, we've never talked we've never met, yet you trust me with your life.

I can save you with my words, strangers who know nothing about each other, and yet through writing down what I know and what I feel, I've saved wrists, I've saved lives, I've healed hearts and I've healed the broken.

And this isn't applause for my self this is a thank you to any writer, who does this, they talk to strangers who question why they are still here, why they don't end it all?

And they give them millions of reasons and most of all despite the fact they have no idea who they're talking to, they tell them they care, they tell them they love them, they give them hope. And that is the most powerful thing of all.

But stranger isn't just happiness, it isn't just appreciation, it's darker too.

It's about how even though we've never cut, we refer to it in the first person in poems as if we have.

And when we talk about those who have and are depressed, we say we. We include ourselves.

Because they should not be excluded and they are not different they are human just like everyone else.

And because though we have not cut we are not strangers to the depressing feelings, to the bullies and he heartache.

We know the moments with blades and knives pressed against wrists. But it's at those moments we say no.

We are needed. We can help. We can support. We can do so much by staying clean.

And while those who have cut can help and can understand, we help in different ways, we teach you ways out of it, ways to say no.

We are a community that requires everyone. And though we are strangers we are friends. Though we are strangers we know and understand one another. Though we are strangers we mourn every loss together.

We may be strangers, but sometimes one compliment from a stranger is all it takes to save a life.

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