But It’s a Good Pain

Not enough.

Tenderness.

Joy.

Rightness.

Tears wash away the stain of hurt, of failure.

Probably dripping hormones, but still.

Are the signs I see real or dream induced?

Or another reaction to the meds?

Am I strong enough?  Brave enough?

Woman enough?

To be really honest.

To move in grace.

To sit in silence.

To wait.

To take my hands off the wheel….