Responsibility
lies like a child
in my belly.
Ripening fast.
Full of sorrow
and possibilities.
Am I good?
Gathering my potions
to save or destroy.
Feeding
what can’t be fed.
Alone.
Heart in my hands.
Clutching,
clawing,
crawling.
Down.
On my knees.
Blind and ashamed.
Shattered mirror
of my mind.
Not enough to take me.