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Feb 2017
It was the weight of it,
which caused me to crumble
shook my tired hands loose
forced me to let go
until I laid there crushed,
flattened face first on the ground
too tired to move
too afraid to peel myself from the floor
and stretch my weary arms towards the sky

Where are you, God?
sit with me here
by the river bank
watch me wade in deep
and be taken by the current
washed out into the ocean
caught between the tides
the coming and going
the to and form
in, out, and away
bits of me dispersing through the water
until I am nothing at all

I breathe in deeply and shut my eyes
gripping tightly to reality
trying my best to stay present
until it passes
until the monster leaves me
I stay still, hiding beneath the covers
safely stable in my permanent cocoon
I will not break free from this -- become the butterfly
but I will survive it
even if I am not really living
Liz Devine
Written by
Liz Devine  Brooklyn
(Brooklyn)   
364
 
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