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Stress in This Time of Need

By Brianna Galligan

By Brianna Lynn GalliganPublished 4 years ago 2 min read
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Gripping pavement with nails chipped to the brink

The blood cascading down the arms

To mingle with the sweat

Of working too hard to keep up.

The battle between the mind and the heart

Rip and tear at every piece of the soul

As rejection upon falsehood collide

In an attempt to destroy any hope.

Dreams of respite collapse in agony

As the tempestuous angels scoff and fly away

Wolves in sheep's clothing

Demons in angel skin.

You try to stand on two feet

Only to have them splayed out beneath you

As you slip and skid on the black ice

Invisible to the eye, yet deadly to the touch.

Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight.

It never ends and never quiets.

The pounding in your head disrupts all.

No sleep. No light. No safety. No. No. No.

So cast an eye to the tempest in the night

Raging its nightmare games amid the cries

Of anguished souls reaching for help

Only to lose their grip on the stones.

The bloody fingers sinking fast past the pavement.

Catching on the next ledge

Only to try and pull themselves up again.

To once more see the light of day.

Try to bring back the light to the world.

Try to hold onto what little hope we can muster

In this strange apocalypse of karma

We have created for ourselves.

Goodbye. Goodbye. To the moon. To the sun.

To the stars and the heavens.

Who will be standing here when all fails?

Who will be here to smile and move forward?

A sign. A sign is all that is asked for.

A sign things will be better.

A sign work will be found.

A sign of health and healing.

Is it too much to ask?

Is it all too much for us to right the wrongs

That half never asked for?

That most never dreamt?

One must keep hope

For if we don't, we have nothing.

And if we have nothing,

We truly have doomed us all.

performance poetry
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