it’s hard to accept the blame for what you did not do.
it’s hard to have your hopes, held high above your head, tipped off the fingers and watch, falling, smash on the ground.
it must be.
it must be hard to tell those you love what you mean, four times even, and still no one knows what the hell you’re talking about.
it must be hard to decide between yourself and someone you’ve never met. someone you don’t like.
it must be really hard to be so upset that you yell at and hit a child.
it must be hard to lay on an operating table and be convinced you are doing the right thing.
it must be really hard.
life is hard. for everyone.
but it’s harder for some than others.
we tend to imagine that life is unfair. that what we have been given isn’t enough and what we’re asked to do is too much.
lord, i say you are good because you are god. lord, i am envious because you are generous. help me to defend the cause of the weak. still. now. always.
would i have known her breath, warm at my ear, if i hadn’t known yours? who knows what i would have done if i were at the wheel.
set me down, give me my agreed upon wage. brush back my hair from my brow and i’ll confess it again.
you are the only luck i’ve ever had. and you know it’s hard.