the hurt

grew and grew, like a hungry monster. eating away at care and compassion. eating away at efforts of trying.

it ate up everything. calm nerves, good memories, hope...

and it grew until there was nothing left but a numbness. a vast numbness where one's heart used to lie.

One of my favorite haikus

She was 10. Guarded. Reserved. She didn't want to talk, so instead we wrote. I taught her about the fun and challenge of haikus and encouraged her to try to express her emotions in a 5-7-5 format. She told me she felt alone. I wrote:

On being alone...

She wrote:

I am a pigeon
in a flock of flamingos.
No one understands.

the beginning

it was not loud

no crash
no boom
no bells and whistles

it was quieter
like a whisper
just too soft for me to hear

and so i leaned in
closer and closer
until there was no space
to divide us