For all who struggle…
He asks me if I would really do it? Give away all the pain if I could.
And I sit silent and still. Waiting, trying to honor the question.
Would I really give it away?
When it’s quiet I can almost feel it, the deep sorrow curling slow and steady in my stomach’s bottom, up into my chest cavity, through my heart. I want to breathe thorough. Burrowed down Yoga breath.
But I am weeping, leaking soundless tears into my rose blush,mixing a face palette of brown skin, black mascara. Are teardrops really the color of fresh water?
“It is so hard.” my voice fractures slight, like my heart keeps doing.
Enough to undo me.
“So hard…but I have this odd feeling…”
Read the whole thing, please.