And didn't you know? She asked herself as they ascended. Didn't you know how this would feel?
It's different though, she replied. Now, today, it's new.
We write our own stories as we walk, run, skip through life. As we float, barrel, bully our way forward.
We look back and what? Cry? Laugh? Dream? Hope? What is there to now but the future? What is there to future but past?
What if I held your pain in my arms and it dissipated? What then? Would life be bearable? Or unbearable still because you were not the one who ceased your own pain?
I call upon the heavens and they rain down vengeance. What of our future then?
Who is Harvey Weinstein and why did I meet him? He who I know. My own family patriarch. He doesn't know that I see him. He feels it though. But he doesn't know. Everyone watches and thinks other.
But I am so much they don't know
Take my pain, sky. Take it and rain relief upon all those in pain. Or do you need my relief? Take that and leave me with pain.
It is my bedfellow anyway. Before and after.
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