She looks out the window
At the world as it passes by.
She extends her hand
But she cannot reach the life beyond her fingertips.
She is drowning.
She is being buried alive.
She is losing herself to the whirl of her reality.
She must continue to give all of herself
While retaining only a little of herself.
Take that fragment
Hold it close.
Cup that ember
In the palm of outstretched hands.
Softly, carefully, protect that ember
From the buffeting waves of life.
When the storm dies down
And the agony abates
Feed that ember
Until it bursts into the flame of who
She used to be.