worry

it was blinding when i drove, but
that sunshine was wasted on the day
that god deemed to brim with tears
collecting on the edges of coffee cups.

i came like i knew i would
like a rescuer, a sort of savior
even with holes in my palms it
turns out i can give a fuck.

later on i kicked the dresser until
it gave way, or maybe until my toes did
i was angry at being helpless to help
and afraid of being afraid of being afraid.

so we learn that nothing is as stoic,
nothing as toxic as compassion.
lifting and carrying and carrying on
through everyone's cracks -
even your own -
forcing you to face yourself
when you just aren't enough.