childish giggling turned to whispers

In the heat of the moment, I realised

There was giggling from my reflection behind my eyelids.

Because underneath the weightedness of the jacket I'd sewn,

Was the truth of every burden I'd ever known.

It's funny, I realised, since once upon a time,

Pain was easy to ignore

But now it is joy that's hard to come by.

I wonder, what might happen if there exists a child taught to be proud of herself

When another is openly hating her every atom

Dependent on the words that helped to morph and mould her.

I didn't expect this;

The marches with the painted fists

Clay taking shapes of broken bodies

Captured by the enemy's photographs,

No good side left in the puffs of colourful smoke

And stings from low-flying hornets, gifting adrenaline

While more sirens swamped the crowd.

~