To The Walk-Aways:
The damage I see everywhere, all around me, the stuff I left behind. It's in the call for help, that young person wading through the darkness on their own, because Mom and Dad preach love, but refuse to love the real them. I see it in the broken pieces of the hallowed eyed wife, married for a decade to a "godly" man who she gave babies to and works herself broken, tip-toeing to avoid his temper and who can't get his words degrading her self worth to zero out of her head. I see it in young girls and boys who in order to find some safety, leave their past communities with no education, no practice and no idea what it takes to survive in the real world or how to go after it. I see the girl who is self conscious and nervous, never having been able to speak up and disagree with a man or anyone in an authority position. Her hands tremble, heart pounds, but she forces out that timid disagreement to a crowd of silent cheers. I recognize that suspicious