Tell me:

Why do you give up?

Why you resist?

Why you set your jaw against the smallest change?

Why you reduce those in your orbit to maddened tears?

Is it so hard to choose,

so difficult to think another way?

To take one meagre strand of thought

and sew it in a different stitch?

To consider for a scanty moment

that another course is possible?

Is it fear that glues you with leaden feet

stuck in the same rigid position?

Where does the terror come from?

Why is your mind stuck in a Tupperware container

with the lid snapped shut?

Does anything - anyone - get through?

Or does your lacquered carapace have so many layers

that when grace and peace and comfort

drift into your puny sphere

there are no cracks, no fissures

that can admit

such solace?