In the place of silence where un-negotiated power lies
she struggles to breathe an air thick as oil.
The liquid sticks to her heart
fills her lungs, slugs through her arteries and veins leaving her
attempting to rise
to show her face to the sun.
Struggling to move the iron boundaries in place from her youth
fences she never erected
the crippling familiarity of control infiltrates her spirit
as she pushes, unsuccessfully, at the invaders of her soul.
Her limitless potential a thing of the past, her
heart rate slows and her body stills to a point of
just getting by
overwhelmed by the thing they call living
her heart wonders what it has done
to the broken heart of the world
aching for solidarity in the breaking
to give up the fight, she whispers
Bless me, mother, for I have become everything you never wanted me to be.
And she rises
to face another day.