Border Lines

She oozes Black, sticky sludge Into my exam room Pounding Relentlessly. Her needs, her pain, her loneliness Washing against my walls Seeping over the top, underneath the foundation Finding the cracks and spilling through Melting the mortar not yet dry. Crumbling the stones. Her burden licks at my ankles, climbs to my knees, Pours onto my lap. In the midst of the rubble she stares at me. This child Trapped in the pain of the wounds, Which are never her fault, Never her responsibility Those peopleher parents, husband, daughter, the judge, the police, The other doctors. Someone must care for these wounds. She oozes up to my chest, my neck And over my head.