I am the observer—
always present,
yet never really there.

Everyone moves,
their stories unfolding
like rivers rushing forward,
while I remain still,
a stone in the current.

I know their struggles,
I see their patterns—
so I give the advice,
offer the comfort,
play the steady hand.

But no one pauses
to read my story.
No one lingers long enough
to see past my smile,
my practiced “I’m okay.”

And so I stay—
a quiet witness
who lives in motion,
a chapter unopened,
a story unread.

Empty brain, filled mind,
Hollow heart, beats fast.
Shaky hands, tired arms,
Haunted, lives in the past

Throned in splendor, immortal Aphrodite!
Child of Zeus, Enchantress, I implore thee
Slay me not in this distress and anguish,
Lady of beauty.

Hither come as once before thou camest,
When from afar thou heard'st my voice lamenting,
Heard'st and camest, leaving thy glorious father's Palace golden,

Yoking thy chariot. Fair the doves that bore thee;
Swift to the darksome earth their course directing,
Waving their thick wings from the highest heaven
Down through the ether.

Quickly they came. Then thou, O blessed goddess,
All in smiling wreathed thy face immortal,
Bade me tell thee the cause of all my suffering,
Why now I called thee;

What for my maddened heart I most was longing.
"Whom," thou criest, "dost wish that sweet Persuasion
Now win over and lead to thy love, my Sappho?
Who is it wrongs thee?

"For, though now he flies, he soon shall follow,
Soon shall be giving gifts who now rejects them.
Even though now he love not, soon shall he love thee
Even though thou wouldst not."

Come then now, dear goddess, and release me
From my anguish. All my heart's desiring
Grant thou now. Now too again as aforetime,
Be thou my ally.