Stops

She stops and checks the list

Of all the secrets that she’s kept.

Of all the wounds created by others,

Of all the identities they thought she’d protect.

She stops and strokes the scars

From the wounds others made.

Never disappearing from her delicate skin,

The most they can do is fade.

She stops to stare at her hand

Counting all the pills.

Today’s not the day to take them all

Because of the uncovered bills.

She stops and thinks of how freeing it must be

To be reduced to ash.

To be scattered among the winds

For everything to become the past.

She stops to recall the times she was hit

By word or deed or hand.

The reason she has extended kindness is

Experience breeds the ability to understand.

She stops to listen to the silence again

Knowing it is not going to change.

Because self-centredness is self-centredness

By any other name.

She stops to consider if she should

Reciprocate their levels of disrespect.

Replicate their levels of inconsideration

And expose the identities

They thought she’d protect…

#Stops   #YDLD