My bones weep tears
They creak like dehydrated doors
I drown in puddles
Of my own misery
And welcome sorrow
Like an old friend
They say I have not experienced real pain yet.
Does pain really have a set definition?
When I break
No way of getting back together
Of becoming one again
When I hear of pain
I try to imagine
Being inflicted with it
I’d call it empathy
There are moments in this vast world that I would like to consider to be great.
Where everyone comes together and puts aside differences.
You find loneliness
And strength in numbers
White, black, brown, yellow
Hands from every side
Ready to catch you when you fall
There is ferocity
In those who stand shoulder to shoulder
Fight for what they believe in
And in that moment
I swear they couldn’t break us
Our tears are laced with sweat and passion, brimming with anger which aids our fight.
I’d like to think that they fear it which is why they attack at our knees, hoping to throw us off.
Maybe we were meant to be
Each others saving grace
So that when one hand falters
Another is there to support and carry