There are times the heart is so heavy,  it becomes physically hard to breathe. Cry it out at night when your daughter sleeps, she must not see. Put it to sleep during the day, they must not meet.
Dreams are to be left as misty peaks because everything is truly in vain during a lifetime. What I called love was a scam and was not to be trusted in a humanity fallen from grace. It made me see that being a woman was a curse and hardly a royal fairy tale. Like putting a gold ring on a pig’s snout we strut into adolescence full of fantasies only to walk out as mules. There we go braying about our rights and designating days in a year to celebrate our existence.
We fly kites to distract our eyes from the dirt we’re treading on. Scarred faces toiling along the way to a fantasized destination. All is vanity because the destination in truth is the escape of our last breath. Up, up and away with the kites into what we do not know. So then what is love, or life, or pain or even peace. Just a mist to disappear when the sun dawns on a new generation of kite runners.
When my eyes are dim and the spirit is weary, my mind does wander off into a living room by a crackling fire. My children look so secure and reassured, never having to worry whether tears will knock at the door or the warmth will disappear. I am not alone and neither is my smile pretentious. We’re cherished and love is real. Everything stops for a while until a whip from behind burns it down to ashes. A trail of my hooves in the dust behind me and a history of betrayal is chained to one hind leg. They rattle if I lift the heel too high.
Woe is me! I was in love with the traveler and I only served. I am exhausted and I have been drained. Stupid donkey! It’s all because of you. Alas! If only we had found a horse.

My trust was naive and now it is lost somewhere full of fear and trembling. I can only hope that it will return more wise and prudent for faithfulness in mankind is like walking on clouds.
But there you stand character, dignified and dressed. Maybe you shall carry my hope through this life being the only thing of substance or weight. But you bring a life of pain. To be slapped and to stay silent, to be honest but to lose, to be kind when they curse you, to be loyal when betrayed, to forgive arrogance and to pity pride. But if this life is all but vanity I shall hold on to the pain you inflict.  It’s either you or a false existence. What do I have to lose. Even if I do not see you when my hair is gray and the curtains close, atleast I’ll know that I tried for something of more value than a happy life.