I have taught myself to believe that everything happens for a reason... how else am I supposed to cope with the endless, torturous hurt that barrels through my body day after day,
wearing down my bones the way
trains begin to wear down their tracks;
the piercing shriek of the wheels spinning against
the push of the brakes mimicking the
cry of my legs struggling to hold up the
nineteen year's worth of
trauma and heartache and exhaustion
threatening to come tumbling down onto
the tracks while my
heart is forced to stare helplessly on,
an innocent bystander
to the impending tragedy that will
forever scar her for life as she is
forced to watch me lose mine?
There has to be a reason