Reader

is it anger that I feel? from my belief that you, you of all people, have the power, the power to heal, to heal me and my scars?

or, have I only ever felt resignation to you, you and to my situation?

Summer is here with softer winds and warmer days,

almost as-if to say “you survived the darker and cooler nights.”

we're told to live a life beyond ourselves and what our bodies are

so we struggle with the idea that mortality will in time come to tell us how we failed

and we fear our freedom and what others might do with theirs to reach outside themselves

we struggle through this all and through each day just so we can hold onto some dust

so it asks the question: “are we here to cope with life, or the things of it?”

when we were children they told us to stop looking up,

as if the answers didn't come from up there,

so we gave up on the heavens and, began to look down at our feet.

Finding my skin,

trying to love what I find where and how it is already,

all for who I was and who I will be.