I see you now. Now that I walk
It's so hard to see your prints through these tears.
I don't dare look down.
Somewhere between the valley of desperation and inadequacy, I saw you hanging there.
right where you left yourself.
like an ancient warrior, covered in scars and cracks, hard as stone but still radiant.
on the other side, for so long I questioned where you had gone.
I see you now. Now that I walk,
How can I rip the vines from your heart?
I'll pick up your armor along my journey and wear it proudly.
I'll use your light that you left to guide my way.
With every hill, I climb,
Every step I take
The voice telling me to give up, with my eyes burning, fingers bleeding, feet aching, and heart turning.
I TAKE ANOTHER STEP
I'M GOING TO KEEP CLIMBING
TEETH CLENCHING
I WILL BLEED A LITTLE MORE
I have to become a warrior too, for her.
For the one who watches me walk.
I see you now. Now that I walk.
I'm shutting the gates. May her path never cross here.
I'll make it out, mama, and I'm taking you with me.
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Second Tuesday of November
No one knew how the event really started. Between a few beverages at the bar, maybe? Notes passed carefully on the street? Or, perhaps a secret meetup at early hours of the day? Whatever the root source was, we were here now on the second Tuesday of November. Nervous, but also absorbed by the allure.
By Elizabeth Petit4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (6)
Inspiring. Thank you for writing. I kept thinking of walking for a cure. of journeys. of my step mom wearing her hair loss with pride. Funny she's survived twice and let the world see her naked scalp both times. But now she grows her hair just to donate it. I don't know if that's what the poem is about but that's what it spoke to me.
Beautiful. I can hear my mom.
Very inspiring.
Excellent storytelling
I enjoyed this!
i like the style you wrote this in. :)