Created in the ******
Of an depressive alcoholic.
Barren of capability.
Devoid of the natural
Mother's instinct.
To protect and nuture
To love me greater then herself,
Or atleast enough to protect me.
I grew up ashamed of where I came from.
Who I came from.
Humiliated by the smell
Of wafting cigarette smoke.
Dozens of beer cans piled in the corner.
Only adding the smell of
Days old stale beer to the air.
Demoralized by the sight of
Dozens of cigarette burns in the carpet.
Proof of just how close to
A deadly close call I was my whole life.
Conflicted by my self destructive anger,
And the love I still had for her.
The drive to protect her,
From herself as much as others.
And the shame in myself,
For loving her at all.
Raised by a mother who more times then not,
Destroyed my self esteem,
And guilted me into the corner.
Shrinking me into a nobody,
A nothing so meek,
I wished with all my strength I didn't exist.
Tortured myself,
Just so she wasn't the only one hurting me.
The only one with power.
And even still,
Nearly 30 years later.
Her inability to love me,
Or mother me hasn't changed the fact that,
I love her,
But have never liked her at all.

To many times
I’ve left work with ***** soaked shoes,
And a beaten morale.
Having spent 12 hours fighting for patients
Who only wanted to fight with me.
Taking 12 hours of mental degradation,
From families and patients about things
Far out of my control.
Apologizing for all the worlds wrong doings,
and Taking the heat for things the patient perceives everyone has done wrong.
Ensuring my patient that my college degree,
Is more reliable than the google search their niece did.
But still relaying the information to the physician so my patient feels heard.
Too often,
I’ve left work wondering why I even bother.
Having forgotten in those 12 long hours
Why I wanted to be nurse In the first place.
Why anyone would.
To infrequent,
Are the “Thank yous” or the “I appreciate its”
Even the “I know you’re doing your best” no longer exist.
Like once inside the walls of the hospital
Human decency has been forgotten,
Or is perceived to be unnecessary.
Patients have forgotten healthcare is
People caring for people.
We are not robots
Everything takes time and we can only move as fast
As the parts in front of us.
When you swear at us,
Kick, spit, hit, yell, an degrade us
We feel those things.
It’s so sad to say we are used to those things.
But,
They drain us just a little more each time.
Leaving us to wonder,
“Why am I doing this to myself?”

The children died first.
One after the other.
A nation so full of
Laughter and joy turned
To rubble and ash.
Where there once was
Happiness and the sound
Of memories being made.
There now lies an
Abyss of empty space.
That echos off the
Darkness that surrounds us.

It wasn't until I turned around,
And truly looked.
Did I realize how far I'd come.
When I looked back,
And was able to see every footprint,
Uphill battle,
Failing lose and triumphant win.
And every mile I'd traveled
Was I able to truly appreciate,
The woman I had become.
Really marvel at,
The woman I had fought to be.
Remembering every wrong turn,
Back track,
And devastating loss.
Tracing every miss step,
Right step,
And every step in between.
Until I laid my life out in front of me
Like a novel I was finally ready to read,
Did I realize the incirmountable excuses
I could have used to remain stationary.
To never take a single step,
In either direction.
My life was set up to fail,
With countless obstacles,
And unmeasurable devastation,
That it wouldn't have been a surprise to anyone,
Had I curled up in a ball and given up.
And yet,
Here I stand looking back at the hands I was dealt,
The good, the bad, and the horrible.
Knowing that no matter the circumstance,
I stood up to the challenge.
I fought hard.
Following in the words of Nightingale;
"I never took nor gave any excuses."
And I've got the miles of deep rooted foot prints behind me,
To prove just that.

I have felt exquisite wonder
And I have felt devastating lose.
I have been wrapped in the softest love.
And cut by the sharpest regret.
My life has been a lifetime movie gone wrong.
But also a Hallmark movie gone so right.
My skin has been blistered by abuse,
And it has been soothed by honeyed lips.

I have been overwhelmed with heartache,
But I've been overwhelmed with elation too.
I spent long periods of my adolescents and early 20s
Retreating to the dark,
Hopeless,
Desperate to disappear.
Believing I was Noone
Convinced I'd never be anyone.

I have been so beaten by despair,
Left battered, and bruised.
Untethered from my life,
Shrouded in worthlessness.
And I have felt so elevated with purpose,
Lifted battered and bruised back onto my feet.
With resolve so strong
I've  felt it in my bones.
Illuminated with determination.

Every time I swore I couldn't get up again,
I did.
Every time I feared this was the one that did me in,
It wasn't.
Every dark corner I never thought I'd find my way out of,
I found my way to the light.
Everything meant to destroy me,
Also created me.

Each destruction a platform for my rebirth.
A place to rise from the ashes.
A stepping stone that said:
"I've been here. It's time to move on."

My life has been a constant Flux between
Horrendous and wonderous.
On a pendulum gage swinging back and forth.
And in the end,
I'm thankful for all I've learned from it,
And the strength I've achieved because of it.

I found love not when
I searched high and low for it.
I didn't find it when I begged or pleaded.
Love didn't come when I forced it,
Tried to squeeze it into a box it wasn't meant for.
Love found me when I wasn't looking.
When love was the last thing on my mind.
Amongst the rubble of my grief,
Love wrapped its arms around me.
Surrounding me in a peace,
I had been searching for,
For years.
I didn't find love behind doors,
I pried off the hinges.
I didn't aquire it from hearts,
I begged to love me.
Love didn't follow me around,
Hoping that I'd turn the right corner
And just find it.
Love found me with my head in my hands,
On my knees begging for peace.
It found me raw,
Just asking for a second to breath.
Love found me,
When I needed it,
Not when I wanted it,
Only when I was ready for it.
Unrequited love is not real.
Those times,
When you search for love in the wrong places.
From the wrong people.
Behind doors that don't want to open,
But you pry off the hinges.
The love in those places, is
That thing we call unrequited love.
When really,
That love was really never meant for you.

Nurses are sitting on the edge of a cliff
Not able to move.
Unable to take any steps forward,
Or back.
Strapped to the side,
Suspended over the precipice of,
What must get done, what must be left behind.
Just trying to catch all of the pieces,
That get thrown off the edge.
Of an overflowing healthcare system.
Filled to the breaking point,
With the sick and dying.
Burdened by chronic and acute illnesses.
Plaged by a pandemic that stretches
The walls and foundation of an already
Crushing patient load.
And we're struggle to make it work.
Grasping at any available leverage,
To keep our patients safe.
Our brains running on overdrive,
Nearly as fast as our feet are.
We're struggling to hold up our patients,
To keep everything from falling over the edge.
Strung together side by side,
An "invincible" wall,
That's is slowly crumbling.
As we get sick,
Burdened by our duty to be everything,
And yet never fully anything.
And as one falls,
We pick up the burden left in their wake.
Grab the hand of our fellow nurse
To keep the wall up for our patients.
Hoping and prayer there is an end.
That there is help coming,
Before our invincibility fails,
Crushed by a system to heavy to manage.
And we are all left shattered.

My mind's like a fishing net.
Capturing big important details.
But,
Letting the smaller day to day tasks
Slip between the holes in the cloth.
Some days,
The bad days I get angry.
I beat myself up,
And lose self confidence
And self assurance.
I lose the drive to be myself.
On other days.
The good days.
I laugh it off.
Forgive myself for my inadequacies.
And remember that I am only human.
All I can do is work to do better.
Improving my mind.
Adjusting my techniques to remember more.
To go from fishing net to,
Fish tank netting.
So fewer and fewer details fit between the holes.
But on all days,
Whether good or bad.
I try to remember,
Atleast at this point,
I have always remembered to put on my pants before leaving the house.

I grew up the daughter whose mother
Didn't want her.
The daughter of an alcoholic.
A melancholy teenager.
Whose mother told her daily,
Just how useless she was.
How much better she should be.
I grew up the daughter of the angry town drunk.
Whose words were like knives,
Directed at my jugular.
I grew up with the towns expectation,
I'd never go anywhere.
Doomed to follow in the haphazard footsteps of my mother.
I was raised to love the woman who told me,
I wasn't worth a ****.
I grew up taking care of the woman who never wanted me.
Putting out lit cigarettes that had fallen from her
Passed out fingers.
I grew up the daughter of a mother,
who never should have had children.
On more nights then not the target for her drunken rage.
I grew up the daughter of a woman who hated herself so much,
She made sure I hated myself too.
I grew up the daughter of a pitiful woman,
Who despite it all I still love.
I grew up in a life so damaged so early on and for so long,
I never thought I'd make it out alive.
But,
I grew up,
To be nothing like the woman who made me.

You can't hate yourself into loving yourself.
But I sure give it a solid try.
Trying desperately,
To hate my body into submission.
To torture it into compliance.
Years, months,
A lifetime
Of attempting to hate,
My body, my mind,
Myself.
Into a box I feel it should fit.
Tormenting myself when once again,
The unrealistic box
I try to shove myself in,
Doesn't fit.
You can't hate yourself into loving yourself.
But I'm proof,
You can give a valliant effort.

If I looked at a picture of you to long
The chasm in my chest opens.
And all the sadness
And emptiness inside that
I've hidden behind walls of
"I'm fines" and smiles
Flows out of me.
Coating me in tar like devastation.
Wrapping around my throat,
Until tears well up in my eyes,
And my throat feels raw from the effort,
Of holding in tears determined to be shed.
And I'm forced to look away.
Away from the man I've loved my whole life.
Away from the person who raised me.
My most treasured gift.
And the tar crushes my outsides
Until I cant breath on the inside.
Until my lungs feel as if
They've been crushed by
100 years worth of heartache.
And I'm reminded of the hole,
Filled with liquid black sadness
That has taken up my insides since you've gone.
Covered only be a membrane as thick
And strong as ash.
I try not to look at your pictures to long.
But,
I miss your face,
And the sound of your voice.
And yet,
My home is full of pictures of you,
of Us.
I spend most of my days,
With my eyes to the ground.
Just waiting,
For the tar.

As a mother,
I wish for you undying love.
A life that leads you to your highest calling.
A world that surrounds you
In such light you have no other
Option then to succeed with elegance.
To be gifted such loyalty,
From others you never question
Their intentions.
That life for you,
Is precious and deep.
And your love of life is unwavering.
As a realist,
I know your life will have hardships.
Times coated in darkness.
I only hope I raise you strong enough,
To withstand the storms.
I know you will be betrayed,
And led to question those around you.
Filling your perception with venom.
I only hope you never get,
So jaded you can't see the good,
That still exists.
You'll lose people and things.
You'll cry yourself to sleep,
On more then one occasion.
I only hope I've given you,
Enough self love to know,
You have to get up again,
After the tears have fallen,
And the pain has been felt.
You have to rise.
As a realistic mother,
I know your journey through life
Won't be easy.
And like the rest of us,
Life will test your strength.
I only hope that when it's all said,
And your life is done.
You can look back and know
You were given everything you needed to succeed.
And despite those that hurt you,
Bruised you, or betrayed you.
You were loved beyond measure.

Happy mother's day?
My mom taught me what alcohol tolerance was by 9.
That some nights if I didn't make dinner,
I wouldn't eat.
She taught me how to be a light sleeper,
By passing out drunk with lite cigarettes.
My mother taught me,
Boys font like fat girls, and you're def bigger then me.
She taught me how to hate myself,
But still love her.
My mother taught me how to be strong,
By making it the only way to survive her
Never ending drunken rampages.
She taught me early,
Not love,, not her daughter comes before the drink.
She taught me how to take care of her.
Make sure she got home from the bar at 1am,
Unscathed from the journey,
And still be up in time for school.
She taught me how to live off little sleep,
And even less attention.
Early she taught me,
I was no more special than coat hanger on the wall.
She taught me your mother's cigarette smoke,
Will cling to your clothing strongly,
You'd have to fold them with dryer sheets inside.
She taught me,
That I'd stay for her to make sure she was okay,
All the while destroying myself.
She taught me how to love someone,
Even when you don't like them.
She taught me how to be respectful,
Even when those people don't deserve respect.
Recently she taught me something else.
Sometimes those people you love,
Will never love you enough to not destroy you,
As they destroy themselves.
She taught me we all have a breaking point.
A point of no return.
And that sometimes it is better alone,
To be an orphan.
Rather then allow them the satisfaction in your torture.

My career is fulfilling.
While most of my life,
My being crumbles around me,
On a daily basis.
My career is my one solid ground.
Where I seem to exceed,
Even my own expectations.
Where even my own cynical eyes can see,
This was the career meant for me.
I thrive in the busy,
The erratic motions of the nurses life,
Blending it to fit my ADD mind.
Most of my being,
Is a mess of rocky foundations,
Anxiety driven let downs.
And the overall sense of worthlessness I have for myself.
My career, becoming a nurse.
All the time, and pain it took me,
To find get here I can clearly see.
This.  Being a nurse was meant for me.

I think of you.
Even when I don't mean to.
I miss you,
Even when I try not to.
But the good moments,
Are clouded by gray.
For all the things you'll miss
While you're away.
Happy moments you won't share in my elation.
And the sad moments you won't be there to comfort my frustration.
The good moments are still good.
And the good memories are still happy from my childhood.
But every good memory is shrouded in fog
Wrapped in sadness like a grim epilogue.
Every memory I have i hold tight to my heart.
For fear without them I'd fall apart.
But each memory gives a thing of pain.
Reminding me I'm alive, I'm still sane.

Reminders of you follow me.
No matter where I go.
Little pieces of you follow.
At work where you were diagnosed.
426 where you passed away.
At home,
What was also your home.
At the zoo where we took you.
To the aquarium.
Walmart, target, Hannaford.
It doesn't matter where I go,
Memories of you always follow.

It's as if all the Syfy shows we watched
Ended as suddenly as you.
Like they came to the near end of their story
Only to stop just before the end arrived.
Cut short
Stopped just before the story closed.
And I'm left with the butter tatse
Of stories cut short before the answers
We're all answered.  
Left with more questions then answers
Waiting for the season finale,
That never happened.
Left,
Simple without the end of the story.

I'm losing the words to say,
To you.
I lose the ability to speak
What goes on inside my head.
To clouded by grief.
To angered by the past.
How to describe what's going on
Inside my head.
Inside my heart,
When all it seems to do
Is tear itself apart.

Some days I'm more,
I'll see you sooner.
Other days I'm more,
It'll be a while.
A constant battle between wanting to die.
But so desperately wanting to live.
The one consistent constant in my life.
After you died, that war pulled so far to the sooner
I had to step back away from the ledge
More times then I'd like to admit.
More times then I'd like to fail? Win?
I'm not sure, maybe both.
Missing you another constant in my life.
Wanting to find you on the other side,
But wanting/needing to be on this one.
For her, for me, but also for you.
Knowing it'd hurt you if I left to soon.
It holds me here, helps hold me here.
With her, for you, and me.
But some days
Om more I'll see you soon.

I dream of you.
And not the good dreams of our past.
But of how different your illness could have been.
How I could have tried to save you.
Each night a new way you could have gone.
Or how I could have failed you.
Like a film on repeat with different endings.
How I could of failed to save you,
In multiple different ways.
How you could have suffered.
And when I awake
I'm left feeling broken all over.
As if I've lost you again in different way,
But the ending remains the same,
You are gone.
I failed to save you.
I lost you.
The ending doesn't change,
The loss remains so fresh,
I awake wondering if you've just left,
Or if you've been gone a long time.
The end remains the same,
I miss you.

I still look to you.
I still hope for answers,
I know won't come.
I reach out for assurance
I know you can no longer give.
Some days I still expect you to be there.
Others I know you'll never be there again.
Most days I can't think to far ahead,
For fear of drawing in the realization you're gone.
And there are so many milestones ahead
You wont be there for.
So most days I think only minutes at a time.
To prevent myself from drowning,
In the reality of an entire lifetime without you.
So sometimes I still look to you for answers
Other times I know i'll never get them.

And some days are better then others.
Most days its a dull ache,
In the pit of my chest.
But someday, it's a typhoon.
Of sadness that washes over me.
And I gasp for air in the suddenness of it.
Coming out the other side drenched
In despair, choking of saltwater.
Most days you being gone has become
The norm.
And other days,
The realization of the "norm"
Slaps me so hard across the face
I'm left reeling from the pain.
Spinning from the sharp jarring,
Of the realization that my days
For nearly 2 years have started
Without you.
But always this emptiness persists.
Some days I can by without drowning.
Other days,
It feels like I'm drowning forever.

Feeling like you're dying.
But breathing.
Wanting to die.
But wanting to live.
Drowning without water.
Suffocating surrounded by air.
Lost in a crowd.
Utterly alone in a room full of people.
Knowing Life is to short,
But it's so long.
A contradiction of epic proportion.
Depression is
Dying but never ******* dying.

Before I even walked through the door
My glasses have fogged up from
My own breath bouncing out of my mask .
We walk through the door, check out Temps.
We've passed the screening
We wash our hands.
We hit the floors.
We always wear masks now.
Answering call lights that never end
We wash our hands.
Put on our gowns, gloves, shield.
Put on a brave face to take care of you.
Countless times.
We take off our gowns, gloves, shield.
Hand sanitize.
Wash our shields with bleach.
Wash our hands.
The skin on our hands are peeling.
Cracked open and bleeding.
But the lights keep ringing.
Patients need us.
We answer more lights.
And wash our burning hands.

My life can be best described as
No one
Who's been sitting on a chair with
A broken leg for her whole life.
A tetter totter to balance myself
In hopes I don’t fall
Or the chair doesn’t break under me
In Utter embarrassment and shame

Christmas cheer this year
Is wrapped in tinsel and tears.
Another year has passed
Another year gone.
Each one as hard as the last.
I miss you now,
Just as much as then.
I put on a brave face,
I step into the crowd and,
I'm so out of place.
No family here,
No anchor to my past.
So every new year's as hard as the last.
I hope that you know
We love you so.
And every year we leave you a chair,
In Hope's that each year you'll be there.

There are days I miss you
So much I feel like I can't breath.
Days where I wonder how I'll survive.
With this pain in my chest.  
Other days I can almost get by,
Without feeling angry or sad that you're gone.
Where each breath,
Feels like gravel in my lungs.
And I wonder if there will ever be a day,
Where it's a little easier to breath
A little easier to survive,
The loss of you.
And then it gets me thinking,
Is it worse to miss you so much
That the pain drives me to my knees.
Or would it be worse,
To be able to get through the day,
Being okay.
A day when the world is normal;
Without you?

For most people routine
Is something they avoid.
The fear of being bored,
Being with someone who bores them.
However I spent my life in a shamble
Of never knowing what it would be like.
Every day a struggle of unknown.
Would my mother be the nice witch?
Or would the hag be the one
to come and play.
I spent years cowering in corners.
Ducking out of reach.
Trying to be invisible
Unseen, unheard.
So for me I desire routine.
A man who isn't afraid of ordinary.
Mundane, a simple life.
One where there isn't any questions
About who will show up to play.
Only the knowing that,
Today,
And every other day,
Will be ordinarily extraordinary.
That is a fairytale for a girl like me.

I saved the best for last.
I saved the end til now.
To mark the sky in oil paints.

Some days the world seems
To spin faster.
And I'm left feeling
Dizzy and confused.
Hoping to catch my breath
Before I collapse.

Sometimes missing you
Takes every molecule of oxygen
I have in my lungs.
And my lungs are devastated
Withered and gasping for air.

Some days I feel like
I'm sitting with my back to the fire.
And it's melting away
The layers of my skin.
But my face never reveals,
The pain, and undying loss.
Until one day,
Everyone I love will awaken.
To the charred ashes of my remains
And a note that says I'm sorry,
I didn't know how to show you.
I did not know what to say.
How do you describe a loss so great
With only words to say.

The scariest moment
Is realizing that I've forgotten
I've forgotten what it was like
To have you here.
And this new world
Where you aren't has become
A world I've become accustomed to.
My new norm,
And that is terrifying

You tell me how I write offends you.
That my use of memory,
Insults you.
It's weird for you to write of past loves,
As you are surrounded by new love.
I'm sorry my words,
My ability to relate to someone else,
Maybe help them with their struggles,
Outweighs that I may offend,
Another heart attached to mine.
So my words are silenced.
In fear of your offense.

My mind is empty of
Words.
And I am not sure if it is
Because I have nothing to say.
Or if I simply have so much to say
My thoughts are congealed like
Coagulated blood at a razor wound.
Irreversible.

Some goodbyes are like butterflies,
So soft if you hadn't been watching,
You'd never have known they'd gone by.
Other goodbyes are as loud as fog horns.
Going off inside the confines of your head.

Some goodbyes are like yo-yos.
They come back a few more times,
Before they're truly gone.

Often goodbyes are as painful
As an electrocution in a downpour.
But sometimes they're as freeing
As the wind caressing your skin,
From the open windows.

Some goodbyes are heaven sent.
Others are hell bound.

But one thing they all have in common,
At the end of every goodbye,
It takes a small piece of you as a memory.

The effort to keep it..
Together.
Somedays is to much.
When I feel like the world,
Will crush me,
Beneath it's weight.
And I become an insignificant,
Ant beneath it's boot.

When I become,
Became, always have been,
A nobody,
A nothing.
The urge to fight,
To survive.
Dwindles to an itch,
That's easily ignored.

When my existence,
Isn't felt by anyone.
Not required,
Ignored.
The minimal fight I've got
Turns into a slow
Melancholy descent into,
Good-bye.

My skin,
Like stained glass windows.
Nearly translucent ,
With colorful artwork.
Imperfections in the glass,
Hidden behind colorful staining.
It's harder to see the major imperfections,
With pretty artwork upon the walls.

In the darkness I heard this keening.
A sounds so devastating.
As if they were dying from the inside out.
As if the world had swallowed them whole.
Devouring them.

And it took me a minute,
To realize.
That sound was coming from me.
I was the one dying.
But utterly and unwaveringly  alive.

And it's like I wake up.
And realize all over again,
That you're gone.
Like,
I realize all over again,
what it means that you're gone.
And it's like a sucker punch,
To my stomach.
The air is ripped from my lungs.
And I'm left gasping for air.
I miss you.
And the weight of missing you,
Some days takes all the breath
From my lungs.
And I'm left gasping for air.
Convinced I'm dying with you.

You ask “What happened?”

My mouth goes dry.
My brain fogs over.
And I don’t know what to say.
I pull down my shorts.
Past my knees.
Hiding my shame.
Hoping the mere action will allow enough time,
To pass and you'll forget you asked a question.

“Are you scratching yourself again?”

And you give me an out.
The darkness of the night,
The only light from the fire.
Hiding my true shame
The depth and scar tissue only shadows.
And the multitude of scars hidden,
By the darkness.
And you answer for me.

So I say “Yes, not on purpose.”

A half truth.
I don’t Mean to, until I do.
I don't mean to, until I need to.
And I’m reminded of why I have to hide.
Because questions freeze my tongue.
And I’m ashamed enough for everyone.

In my life I've missed a lot of things.
I've missed my favorite pen I lost.
The way my door didn't squeak at the hinges.
I've missed friends i haven't seen in yours.
Stuffed animals long forgotten.
The old days,
The simpler times of being a child.
I've missed 90's snacks.
Penny candy,
And 3D doritos.
I've missed phone calls,
Right and left turns,
And puns gone over my head.

But I never truly knew
What I miss really meant.
Until that I miss was you.

And you blink.
For a moment.
For a second
And everything can change.
In a moment
In the blink of an eye.
Every
Thing
Can
Change.
And we all must blink.

I'm devastation in cling wrap
Melted to the frame.
Popped balloons on birthdays.
A bankrupt business.
Giving out more then it has.
An empty O2 tank,
On the hip of a cystic fibrosis patient.
Useless extra weight.
Like an anchor
On a boat trying to set sail.
Going nowhere.
Remaining in the same spot.
Growing  roots
That barely scrape the surface.
Only to be blown over
With a gust of insufficiency.
Inadequate valves
Leaking out life sustaining fluids.
With more effort to fail
Then to just
Let go.

I think what hurt the most
Wasn't the fall.
Or the crash landing.
It was getting up
To witness the wreckage I'd created
On my way down.

I have stepped down from the
Pedestal in which you placed me.
With shaking knees
And sweaty palms.
And I hope that maybe now you'll see
Everything you thought I was
Was what you wanted not me.

I'm vividly aware
Of how influenced by
Your absense I gave become.
Every cough is a sign of death.
Ever upset stomach is
Tragedy.
Every headache
A reminder of your/my frailty.
Every previously unassuming illness
Has now become a warning
For every possible tragedy awaiting.
My life now a series of
Panic attacks brought about by
Possibility over probability.
What lose comes next?
Or will I be the lose?

And then I inhaled,
A deep earth quaking breath.
And exhaled
With an earth shattering roar!
Fire poured from my lips,
Smoke billowed from my nose.
I was no ones little lamb anymore!

My reactions are never
A disgust in you.
But rather
They are a disgust
In myself.

Far to often we leave
after the love turns
To ash in our mouth.
And our lungs harden
Like cement in our chests.
And our hearts,
To diamonds under the pressure
And then shatter.