A quickness in the breath
A clearing of the throat
A flexing of the knuckles
To keep oneself afloat

Hands are used to to push
Through hours and through days
Whispering encouragements
And building up with praise

Work through others’ tensions
Massage away the pain
They walk away unburdened
And thank you for their gain

They do not see the guardedness
The working through of grief
That comes from loving for too long
A memory so brief

Soul slips through the hourglass
Each act a grain of sand
emptying yourself of self
A sacrificial lamb

The space held out for others
Is not one you can bear
The pain is deep and dull and raw
Too much for you to share

And yet your struggle can be seen
In cracks through the facade
The grief you take such care to hide
As though it makes you flawed

I felt it coming off you
A bitter sort of rind
So much weight to carry
For something left behind