Fragile

I keep coming back to the same idea:


We are so fragile.


Only when I think this it’s more like a lament:


--a cry a sadness that washes over me a desire to cry a desire to love and to be loved--


we are so fragile we are so fragile why are we so fragile why are we so how can we be so fragile why doesn’t everyone see how fragile we are is it only me who is fragile is it only me who can see fragility why does this fragility make me want to cry fragility is met with more fragility your fragility makes me want to cry it makes me want to cry it makes me want to hold you it makes me want to run away I don’t want you to see how fragile I am I don’t want anyone to see my fragility I am not this fragile I am not fragile I am not I am I


How quickly humans can go from tears to something else entirely.


Inside fragility is agile.


I won’t fall apart if you breathe on me.


Though there’s no telling what one soft breath might do.  Alter time.  Suspend gravity? Bring on the rain?


The ripple effect of one kind word is more frightening than a fist.  Why is that?


Violence is easy.  We know that kind of pain with a dumb understanding.


Kindness is something altogether different.  It tears open your heart and leaves you vulnerable.  Leaves a feeling of indebtedness.  And it’s easier to pay back with a fist than to pay back with a kiss.


Compassion is painful.