She cried because she was broken,
I cried for her brokenness.
I guess I thought
if I just squeezed tight enough
I could put her back together.
Now I know,
that there is a kind of broken,
beyond repair.
Sometimes I wonder
if she heard
my unspoken words
on that heavy fall morning,
with my arms around her shoulders
as we shook with sobs
that were unable to break the stillness in the air.
“I’m here”.