This is lame euphemism.
Lazy too.
One that doesn’t reach halfway
on the road to describing
how she is knocked down
over and over (and, damn it, over again).
She rages
panics
plans
eats (too much)
smokes (too many)
panics more
calls (her sister or her girlfriend or me)
prays
doesn’t drink (anymore)
breathes
Each and every time,
she wipes off the gravel embedded
in her already scarred palms
from all of last year’s
last decade’s
last nearly-half century’s
shoves to the ground
which she continually transforms into moments of redemption.
(cc) Karen G. Johnston
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