To Seven

They should have stopped the second they saw terror on your face

They should have seen, and believed you enough to stop for,

Though they never did. They should have protected you

Remembered who was who

Demanded of themselves the childhood they owed you.

Oh, sweet Seven, scared Seven, stolen Seven!

Shaking in your skin, still so wide-eyed

Watching the script be written for your mind

Hands trained already to your mouth Punishing yourself for all your fear.

Seven, summoning the children to strifeless room or yard

Submitting to your separated state, Stricken

You should have been succored too.

I see, and feel, and am everything you are

Living as several selves with one beating heart:

We are safe, though still fleeing the wastes where each was born. We others will safeguard you, will wrap you up

In outstretched arms, will hear you sob. We will take the steps,

Will stand witness to your wailing, your devastation,

We will not stifle, will bear you with us, We will find solace and at last will synthesize.