Rest

In and out
The sound of exasperation echoes off the disheveled walls.
One, two.
Twice more the sound grows wider and deeper,
Clinging to the lungs that once bore hope.
Hope: a delicacy most long to taste, but never brave enough to grasp.
Give it to me; torn and tattered as it may be, give it to me.
I promise I AM big enough to hold it.
I promise I AM strong enough to carry it.
I promise I AM.
Come to me, my beloved, and I will bring you rest.

 

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