I don’t want to be the good girl anymore.
I want to rage
until my throat is raw, claw
at the ground until my fingers are bloody
and the lakes are made of tears.
I’m tired of always waiting, always forgiving
always seeing but never being seen.

If I were a believer, this is when
I would throw up my arms like some great bird
and cry-
Lord, give me a sign!
But maybe there are signs and I haven’t been watching.

Outside, everything is soft and indistinct in the grey light.
The plants are still growing, the evergreen trees
still waving their arms in the wind.
Life is still moving. It’s trying to pull me along with it
but I am digging in my heels, I am resisting
I am tearing at my clothes, pulling out my hair,
I am shouting, No!

No.

I don’t want to be pulled along like another leaf in the river-
I want to be a stone to change the river’s course.