I Write This For All Of Us

I write this for all of us

for the us who couldn't

and can't find the will 

or the reason.  For the creator

who can't breathe that breath

or muster the courage

to begin.  I write this for the abandoned parts

banished and abused for their perceived

lack.

For the ocean-deep gouge of tired

that can't stomach the thought

of more

or the same.

I write this for the pray-er who begs

for tomorrow to be better, for the twinkle

of hope that wants more

and more—for the human in us

who perpetually apologizes for being

human.

I write this for the eyes

that would rather close

for the mother

the daughter, the sister who has lost

and lost

her reason.

With trembling breath I pray

that these wanting parts

will forever and ever

die.

I pray

that you will lie down with me in this shelter

of calm—that we can set free

and free

this biting pang of want.

I pray that this

this whisper of breath

can be enough and enough

and enough

of a reason.