I pulled into a convenience lot to fuel.
She was hunched over the cans in-between the pumps;
drinking what she could find discarded.
She was an observation in self destruction once dotting youth,
a tint of beauty still present in her uncombed flax.
Without question pulled a few dollars from my bag.
“Here” I said, “take this.”
She quickly replied, “Thank You.”
I stepped through the doors of the store, she followed.
I went for a bottle of water; she went for the largest bottle of beer.
I asked, “are you hungry, what would you like?’
“Milk please,” she said, clinching to the beer.
I paid for my water, my fuel, her milk.
I left looking back, as she walked away with her freedom.
I have avoided the convenience of going back to that store.
My heart wanted so much to fix her.
My mind knew I could not.