Spill

I asked you once,
twice,
thrice,
and you smiled so sweet
and said “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
I tried to maneuver my way in
with this hardwired hardware brain
to tinker around inside your head
but the hex key in my tool box
proved too small.

So you smiled instead and said
“I’m fine, I’m fine”
but in your mind and in your eyes
you pleaded quick
“Don’t try, don’t try.”
You cracked for a moment,
whether you knew I saw or not.
I wanted to pry your head open
to let out the Athena of worry
that formed in there while you slept,
mouth shut tight
and pillows over face
for fear of her escaping.

I will not give up,
you wonderful, stubborn girl
until you have finally taken the blow
given up control
and accepted the pain
of your head splitting open...

And then you will spill
onto the floor
your bed
our couch
and Me and He
hand in hand
your family
will form the glass
for you to fill.