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I am the colicky baby and the exhausted mother. I try to hold myself just right, or rock back and forth as i sing my favorite lullaby, but nothing soothes me. I desperately need to rest and would love if I had someone to help, but I couldn't object someone to something so draining. painful. I can't stop and I can't make it stop.
The torch I hold reflects in the eight swords around me, and I'm blinded, scared to move in fear of cutting myself. Even if I could drown the fire in the dirt, I'd only be left in the dark. Like I can't win. I feel like I can't win.
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