Sometimes I am a thorn

Stuck in my mother’s side

In my father’s thumb

As he tries to push me down

Down, down

Deep into the earth.

But I will not sink.

Sometimes I am a sliver

Jammed in my father’s palm

In my brother’s foot

As he stomps on me

Thud, thud

Hurting me with every step.

But I hurt him too.

Sometimes I am a stain

On the kitchen table

On the living room floor

As mother tries to wash me away

Scrub, scrub

My crimson tinge annoys her.

But I will not fade.

Sometimes I am a breeze

Over the lake

Through the windows

As I cool sweating faces

Whisper, whisper

I murmur in ears when I pass.

But none are willing to listen.