I struggle for words, I bite my tongue, I sigh from the depth of my soul,
Your pain’s so deep, my words so weak, am I helping or hurting you more?
My mind can’t stop racing, ideas, solutions, I am trying to not waste your time.
My eloquence fails, my wisdom sails, all I muster is one more deep sigh.
To the sleepless parent whose child is lost to the world, to the orphan with nowhere to turn,
To the suffering in silence, calming minds that can’t stop, and fears that always return,
To those stuck in bed, with nothing to live for, fighting to go on for one more,
To those haunted by demons; by loved ones who hurt them, who robbed them of all youthful joy.

To those hiding in closets, living two lives, torn into pieces and shreds,
To the voices not heard, the people not seen, they walk among us, the living dead.
To the lonely soul yearning for connection and love, whose hope hardened into despair,
To those who read this and wept, their pain not expressed, truly, my greatest fear.

כֹּ֤ה תֹאַמר֙ ִלְבֵנ֣י יִשָׂרֵא֔ל ֶאְה ֖יֶה שָׁלַ֥חִני ֲאֵליכם
ְְֶ ֽֽ
The very first message that Hashem conveys to His enslaved people is not one of redemption or even of hope, but rather, it is one of presence; “I will be with you in your pain.” (Shemos, 3:14, Rashi)

So as I struggle for words, as I bite my tongue, as you wonder if I’m even still there,
I am trying my best to feel your pain, and to be there with you in that space.
I don’t have solutions, or words of wisdom, I don’t mean to waste your time.
I just want you to know that no matter the reason, ​imcha anochi b’tzarah (I am with you in your pain)

We may not always have the words, we may even be afraid to share that we do not have the words, but we are there with you in your pain