even when she sleeps, her forehead twitches and knots telling me clearly that it still hurts. the only thing that changes is the location and the intensity. i can’t see through the skin and bone, but can imagine with startling clarity the pulsing pain as it slowly wanders here and there. sometimes it speaks. in whimpers, cries and sniffs. sometimes her eyes look as if they’re behind bars, pleading for release.
i want to bring that release, but i can’t. i don’t know what words to say, or in what order they would have to be said to break the curse. i can’t reach in and pull the pain out squirming in my hand. i can only pray for her and sometimes that seems such a mockery.
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