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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