Her pain, her anguish, her depletion, there is nothing I can do for her except to pray.
I can’t console her when the fire in her belly is ignited by rage.
“Can you rest, allowing your mind to slowly unwind while your body shuts itself down?”, I ask.
She stirs and mumbles something incoherent just as the rant awakens once more.
Relax is not in her vocabulary, only anxiety is the skill set she has acquired.
The uncomfortableness she feels in her own skin, it ravages her soul.
I shower just to find her gone when I appear from the steamed up bath.
A quick phone call to inquire are you alright, shall I keep on the light?
I hear my best friend’s voice in my head, “just let her vomit those eroding thoughts that haunt her”.
She doesn’t want you to fix her, just listen to her heart.
The words shoot through me like bullets loaded with her venom.
She’s not attacking me and she doesn’t mean to raise her voice, but it feels unbearable as I be still.
Wouldn’t you know, the less I speak, the calmer she becomes.
The thread began to wear to the end as did she from beginning to not quite the end.
Tomorrow might be the same or even a little bit different, who knows?
One thing is sure, this child struggles and suffers devastatingly so.
Yet no matter how near, far or out of touch, I will never leave her side because I simply love her that much.