My soul has died a thousand deaths;
My pain and anguish has no limit
to cry a thousand oceans
to ache with intensity unmeasurable
the unsharable agony of my existence.
If this is too much for others to bear with me,
How am I supposed to bear it alone?
My well of pain never runs dry.
To share a bucket of my pain with another
drives them away—it is too much for them to bear.
The bucket is doubled and tripled in their insensitivity.
They never knew how little I showed them
compared to the well that never runs dry.
—Michelle E. Robbins, December 20, 1992
Copyright © 2000 by Michelle E. Robbins. All rights reserved.
