this hope
you ask me to cling to
is indecent,
a conflict diamond you finger in your pocket
___
we are
pigments
bits of paper
dampness soiling ransacked shoes
plastic sheeting snapping against barking winds
razor wire glinting in search lights
searching
everywhere
but here
___
we are
tiny fires blazing
in metal trash bins
burning ourselves out
___
we are
shards
of peace
sinking
dead
in still dark waters
silenced
as a child
___
are we not
born
human
_________________
Copyright © 04/17/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
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We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (7)
That is a great statement, and I love the T-shirt.
Love the sentiment and the T Shirt
Impressive & powerful!!! Loved it!!!💕❤️❤️
Stark, wonderful, true. I love how your final line - are we not born human - echoes the line in The Merchant of Venice - if you prick us, do we not bleed?
Awesome , very deeply felt and really wonderful. Briefly explored.
Well-wrought! One must learn not to blame hope, but simply listen to its song. It's a little bird, after all, not a Griffon. No need to cling. In blaming our own hope rather than the other's fear, we make our greatest blunder. Or so it seems to me...
Intense because it's real; really, really good Christy!