Bystander

Tap...I can see it in the way they walk into my room...tap... I can feel it in the air as a sharp inhale followed by a shaky exhale, disrupts the space between us…tap… I can hear it in their trembling voice when they speak from the empty bowls of desperation. They are hopeless and in anguish for their lack of mental nourishment. It is not the fault of a child if the adult has failed in their pursuit to teach but it is the fault of the child if they choose not to receive. In front of me sits both the child and parent in a single soul, each longing to connect with the other and yet stubborn in their understanding.

I cannot help them for they are co-dependent on their suffering, and they continue to push onward as a machine would. Using the tiny bits and pieces they had cultivated in the community they built before it came crashing down as fuel. They are finite, and they know that because it has been proven to them time and time again in the form of chaos, anarchy, and destruction. And when thats all they know what can you expect me to do? I will not fall victim to their will, but I will not stand in their way.