"Play nice," they said,
a redundancy to the Old Soul
that inhabited the girl child body.
An unnecessary admonition
to a heart that sopped up pain
like a kitchen sponge.
"Be sweet," they said,
as her eyes saw the deep sorrow
which lived beneath the rib cages
of this species.
"Be gentle," they said,
even as her touch
calmed and healed,
her words sighing a melody
of redemption and hope.
"Set boundaries," no one ever said.
So when the times came
when she was filled too full
to process,
she became Solitary
to weep away the Poison,
and worry over the conflict
between her Spirit
and the frail shell that housed it.
Wondering why if the Gift was given,
did it take this toll?
Wishing she had been placed
where the people leaked Joy.
"Our Lady of the Broken Heart" Sophia Rosenberg https://www.etsy.com/listing/193486170/our-lady-of-the-broken-heart-sophia?ref=shop_home_active_13 |