Going All the Way

There are two things I’m good at
and only one I’ll take money for.

I am the piece on the Ouiji board
with fingers touching lightly
some manicured and polished
others callused and cut short for work.
They want me to go all the way,
even if they aren’t pushing.

I am the bridge between the Island
and the mainland’s wealth.
Hurricane-force winds come from the shore
and seem to spring from without.
They want me to go all the way,
even if they will hate me for it.

I am the antithesis of my family
first-generation over-achiever.
Increasingly uncomfortable,
we find it harder to speak to each other.
They want me to go all the way,
even if they don’t understand it.

I am the broken record
repeating to myself – just keep going.
Four years, two more, three more
what’s nine years of my life, anyway?
They want me to go all the way,
and I’m too scared not to.

There are only two things I’m good at
and only one I’ll take money for.