You, flawless kin around the Sunday table,
your laughter spilling like last night’s wine.
We, the outsiders, press our faces to your glass,
counting hugs like bankers count their cash.
What thread holds you together, quiet and tight?
No slammed doors echo through this home.
No lacerating words to leave marks,
yet even saints stumble now and then.
We outsiders hold on, but for what? A reflection?
The dream’s no panacea for the ache inside.
So here’s to the ghosts of the family we thought we had;
then back we go, clear-eyed, to heal what is ours.
(B. Briscoe)
**
An excerpt from an Instagram post by Rachel Haack, MA, MFT-I
To love is to accept risk.
To care is to carry a burden.
There’s no way around it. You
cannot build real relationships and
guarantee that your feelings won’t
get hurt. You cannot guarantee
that the people you love will never
fail you. Emotional safety isn’t a
permanent state we achieve–it’s a
moment we return to and rebuild.
