Hopeful

I still don’t believe what is going on.

I still don’t believe I’m not in school learning polygons.

I still don’t believe that so many people have fallen.

I don’t believe that we are running out of coffins.

When I wake up I’m confused.

My pillows are beaten of overuse.

Thinking about where I should be is a waste.

The smiles I expect are all erased.

Silent tears fall at 2am in self pity.

I desperately search for familiar faces in a virtual city.

I keep wondering when we will get the sunrise we are owed,

if this foggy forest will ever meet a road.

But there are moments between the emotional warring,

like the talks with my mom as we walk the dogs on a God-gifted morning,

like the bike rides with my best friend talking dreams beyond the haze,

like learning to drive stick with my dad and joking under the sun's warm rays,

like the endless giggle with my sister as we struggle to defeat one more level,

like learning to love the genre of heavy metal.

Do not hear my words wrong, we are indeed in crisis,

but it turned us to acknowledge we were being eaten by our vices,

to look at the world and each other,

to recognize that we are all sisters and brothers.

Some nights when there is no moon,

you can see a sliver of light peering out from behind the dark lagoon.

As we are waiting to hear one of the names in the news not be a stranger,

as the loneliness allows our hearts to give way to anger,

sometimes that light will appear

and we realize that love is stronger than fear.