she wears it like a badge
not proud, but defiant.
in the face of her martyrdom.
she is slighted, she is put upon.
she bears the shoulder, missing a chip.
this is her legacy, but she wouldn't tell you it's so.
she would claim otherwise, but for
who screams louder?
it is consuming, this beast.
it lives and it lurks and it is loathe to let go.
it overshadows all else.
there is love, but it, too, is exhausting
and it struggles to breathe, and in
all the toil and all the tired and all you see
is the misery.