She screamed
She wept
Till her throat was raw and eyes numb
But it wasn’t enough.

She tried again
She cried again
To find a way to express
The anguish and rage.

Nothing was enough.
The well went too deep
The hurt rawer after every instance
So she stopped.

Unable to express more
Unable to bleed more
She stopped.
But this was no triumph.

The process began anew
The hurt and rage built up
Until it could go no further
And she had to begin again.

“It is too much,” she cried,
“The rage too hot, the grief too vast
How do I release it
Without breaking my back?”

She didn’t get an answer.
Just a light that
Cracked open the shell
And forced her to air out the laundry again.

That’s how you do it
In small doses, small dumps
So your being can take it
As it’s wrung free of its own cage.


2 thoughts on “Being Free

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