The Weight of Help

A message lights my phone, simple, direct—

“Do you need a hand?” The question hangs,

a breath caught in the throat, emotions collide,

my instinct a fortress, built of refusals,

yet the weight of 'yes' settles heavy,

a tender offer like a lifeline, flickering.

What does one do with an open palm?

The thought rattles inside, a discordant song,

each note sharp against the quiet of the room,

I’m pulled, uncertain, towards the light,

like moths to flame, do I dare take the leap?

Will their kindness hold me, or will I fall

into the unknown, wrestling with grace?