The Atlantic Daughter

Microscope visions

a girl who never had a choice

watch her suffer

see her whither

white pain 

hits behind the eyes

smothered

even if the air is clear

The world

is on her shoulders

giving Atlas a break

his back must be sore

her’s is aching 

she is only human

Does she seem incapable

a fool

living like a scholar

Pavement scrapes

holes in her skin

when the stones reach

the other side

there’ll be nothing left

Even your “good”  advice

is a jagged blade

twisting

turning

torturing

As she smiles

cheek to cheek

her composure

crumbles

rocks grind

at the pit of her stomach

fluid begins

to well up inside

a  wave of nausea

rushes over her body

her face

dowsed in milk 

an oleander reflects her porcelain

Eyes are eclipsed 

She is at ease