Her smooth skin is an illusion:
Inside, she’s tough like leather.
I don’t mean this cynically.
She’s seen catastrophe:
Yet, she persists.
Carrying a torch with a hopeful flame
That never dies out.
I don’t understand this.
She studies genocide,
Yet, she tells me everything
Will be okay.
I drift at times in despair,
See chaos and incoherence,
Silent heavens and agonized screams,
Met with divine indifference.
Then, she summons a piece
Of biblical truth from fortunate
And I fall asleep peacefully.
Truly, I don’t understand this.
Author’s Note: This poem is dedicated to my girlfriend, Rachel. While I am a natural pessimist, Rachel is very optimistic. It’s a life-saver for me, because she often helps me when I’m in my depressions. I’m lucky to have her!