My life came for me in a way I did not recognize, nor understand.

Grace escaped me, I guess. 

Flattened, I hid, too misshapen to mingle.

The far-too-long days, they punished me.

Sleep- whose embrace I used to love- became a tease. A bully.

Why? Why me?

What now, I cried.

Out of gas, busted up, scattered all around the place, I heard 

a whisper choking past my pride.

I’m sure I said: “Help me.”

And having heard it, I thought, ok. That’s what now.

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