*how to help, when to help

My mind is blank, 
yet underneath I
know there are caverns
full of words, adjoining
rooms, hallways of doors, 
some just closets, others
ballrooms, lounges, 
meditative spaces.

I pass judgment
and analyze,
I listen to my guts tumbling, 
my shoulders rolling
into their vice grip
position.

 

We take sides, draw lines, 

dig trenches, divide

and conquer.

All the while

I’m just trying to

say is this a 

true fit

            or a moment

            of despair

and if it’s the latter don’t call it sacred. 

*found this in my hand writing on a scrap of paper and I don't know when it is from...