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Whose Burden, Whose Opportunity?

February 8, 2012

Simmering low, beneath the surface

Thoughts of something not so shocking

Fires rage and foam bubbles

Overflowing, seeping, leaking from every missed stitch

In the seams of existence.

She shall tell no one but me

About the struggle to live

The pain in her soul

At life’s turnings and twists,

Not the path chosen and not a path wanted.

Past trials mirrored by the present

She cannot see how to turn it ’round

On this day, she knows not the glut of pain seething in me

She asks to put her load on me, her growth in my hands

Help, she speaks, cries, whispers, mouths.

The rock inside me moves an inch, no more.

What is it to say what I think?

But impossibility in this moment,

I do it

To save her, ease her pain, avoid the truth that

It is entirely possible not many would miss her were she gone.

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