Tell me, Mother,
which shall I resent:
nurturing apathy or being drawn to it?
Tell me, Brother,
which shall I look for:
a tainted refuge or a miserly protector?
Tell me, God,
which shall I pray for:
the spine to withstand pressure
or the hands to hold the weight?
The vexation I feel
from choking on my own suppression.
As I hoard opposites inside of me:
the affirmative, the negative.
To allow, to forbid.
To answer, to question.
I can hold fragility
and embody the spirit of resilience.
Love is simply not enough to fulfill me.