Long ago, I was wounded. I lived <br />to revenge myself <br />against my father, not <br />for what he was-- <br />for what I was: from the beginning of time, <br />in childhood, I thought <br />that pain meant <br />I was not loved. <br />It meant I loved.<br /><br />Louise Glück<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/first-memory-2/
