Let It Be is not just a song by the Beatles.

Let’s take a minute to reflect upon who we are.  Sit. Breathe in all of the things you need to.  Never mind there are couches. Never mind the reflecting letters, how the walls sulfur and blow.  Pay no mind to the way your little sister cried under the slaps of your father’s belt circa 1987 while you hid in the bathtub, head between your knees, rocking like a retard.  Just breathe and let it all fill in the chinks where the light comes in, disrupting everything you were meant to be.  Breathe and wait.  When nothing happens, when no answers come and you don’t feel a bit of difference, you are done.  Tell the polar bear to leave.  Kick his flabby ass on his way out the door.  Say, “That’s right you fuck,” and don’t even bother slamming anything, polar bears can’t hear worth a shit.  Instead, think about fingering the girl at work you hate so very much.  Think about feeding her her own cunt slime while you half choke her out MMA style, your erection burning a hole in your fist.  Then, once you come down from that high, call me.  On my cell, not my house phone, I don’t answer that shit.  I’ll lie on my back and listen to everything you have to say.  I promise.  If you need me to talk back, I will, just don’t ask me to come over, there’s not one part of me that ever wants to see your face.