The “no”s pile onto my chest
Slowly the breath is squeezed out my soul
The hunger out of my body
The will to live begins to flicker ominously
Like a pile of boulders they sit, undisturbed
By their own crushing impact
Many of them placed there by my kin
My brothers and sisters
Where is a soul to take even one away?
Where is the Good Samaritan now?
Old ways of coping stalk me
A pack of wolves offering temporary relief
Where is yes?
My being howls in pain
Day and night
Not a moment’s true respite
It’s been years since I tasted rest
That lasted long enough to touch the marrow
My rage burns the bridges of false belonging
Strung between bitterness and true solitude
I only pray that once this has finished
This slow death
Whatever is left
Becomes medicine
For this unforgivable
Betrayal
The Eye of the Needle 