The Garden

pain was like rain— You could only avoid the storm when you let it fall.

pain was like a knife. one you couldn’t use more than once.

“I think you are drawn to the familiar.” Angelo smiled. “As people, we all are. We go to what feels the same. Even if that feeling is pain.”

There were long months when she couldn’t cry. Then certain years where she drowned in tears.

She felt her inner world had formed its own inner world and now she was too far down her own soul to hear.