Service Of Life

Channeling Mother Theresa

How can you help?

Not that way because
if you help
you make me feel
a lesser thing than you.

Clear that I’m in need
but even though I fell
I’m not yet broken
by the concrete of depression,
not in need of fixing,
I’m as whole as you,
perhaps greyly more so.

I watch you channel
Mother Theresa,
we both suck it in,
you think then say
how can you serve?

Those words, that giving
yourself unknots me.
You loan me your strength,
feel my drowning,
cup your arms under mine,
pull us back to shore.

I choose not to hear
your labored breath,
ignore the sting of salt in eyes,
don’t feel your feet kick
but lie quiet in the lifejacket
of my best friend’s soul.