"   oooh ,     oh  ---  i can help with that !   "    she practically    leaps    off her seat  ,     body giddy with an overflowing wave of excitement that threatens to spill .     she immediatly clears her throat ,     making a shallow attempt to cease the stirring of digits by smoothing down the crinkles in her newly sewn summerdress .   “   ------   sorry .    that sounds so morbid ...     i just got excited,    ”     her bashful gaze seeks refugee on the ground .     “   i never get to help.   ”

she smothers her sorrow   with hope ,      holding it    hostage   inside this gilded cage of a chest ;    but  the weight of the world is too heavy for a soul to carry alone ,       so it ravenously claws its way out  ,      tearing at the well of her     pale ,      untarnished throat that aches for release .    “   i couldn’t —      i…          i     couldn’t help   ,    i couldn’t do anything  !     "            do not crumble ,    do not crumble ;       she will repeat like a mantra  ,     praying those wobbly knees will someday ,    become a fortress  .      that she will never again be unmade by grief  .             "    why can’t i help anyone ...     "      anguished sobs   are quelled into another’s chest  ,       and she finds there is no rage inside ,     there is no   fire to spill ,       only water .    her crown of dark hair pours down their arms like    a splatter of black ink  ,     and her entire body shakes like a collapsing catedral ,  grabbing whatever nearest to squeeze between her fingers ,     in hopes it’d    swallow her whole  .