acid dream

Last night I found a girl who looked at me as if to say what made you be on that side of the equation?
Why does there seem to be a rescuer and a rescued? Why do I appear to be so small?
She was bleeding from the head.
And there I stood - saying all things involving the words unfair and sorry followed by attempts to help by simply softly singing to the strayed soul. Wondering if I was now part of it.
Did I cross the border?
Was I doing enough if not? Do I do enough?
Would I ever be as tough as the small child before me?
Trying to wipe the shed blood with words.

Perhaps in another lifetime.
Perhaps that’s why I at least understand.

But honestly,
this was never about me.

I peeked. She didn’t make it.

Perhaps tonight when the head rests we can catch the rest of the story. But most likely not.

-D.