The Toll


Photo: Alabaster canopic jar (Wikimedia)


She was impervious to their taunting.

To the words

That meant to hurt

But found no inlet

No crack

In what seemed her

Flawless control.


She was impervious to others’ love

As well.

The doors of her alabaster soul

Had slammed shut

After her spirit had peeked


Only to find more harm

Than she knew she would be able

To endure if she were to


Remain whole.


She was impervious to much,

But not to beauty.

She could not give up


Without crumbling.

And so she lived

In stoic


Of the world,

And its toll.



For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Impervious in 99 words



21 thoughts on “The Toll

    • Thanks, Rochelle. It is indeed the reality of so many — of too many. The cost of snailing in is high, even if sometimes it can seem to be the only way to manage the unmanageable. I’m preparing a workshop about trauma and disability that I’ll be co-presenting in an international conference next weekend, as well as a 6 hour workshop on trauma and development that I’ll be teaching two weeks from today, and the children I’d seen and see (and the adults they grow up to be if they do not get the support they need) are clearly on my mind.
      Off to read yours now!


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