But Soft

There's a space
after the fire burned everything to the ground
after you thought you couldn't possibly endure
another step in the dark,
but before the tiny spires in the soil wrap their tendrils around
your lungs and
explode in your blood stream,
when you think you are all right
when you think you are better by the minute,
but in fact you are nothing but
numb
worn down to your bare bones,
and stumbling forward through molasses.

How cruel to know life
and think this is all it is.