How to explain
I did not walk out of prison
tucked in thankfulness,
blessing the cageless sky.
How to explain
the moon has never been the same
since you took her from me.
How my losses didn't
just
fill up with gratitude
like a wave chasing a wave.
I went searching for it.
Picked shells from the sand where I found them.
Named them all Peace.
If the name didn't take,
I set them back.
How to explain my fingers
are always sand-dirty,
no matter how much I wash.
How when he has gone to the grocery,
I see how long I can hold my breath
under water,
hold so tightly to my shells
that my hands bleed.
The news says we'll be so happy
when the stores are full again.
How to explain
so many of us
will still see empty shelves.
How this is okay.
How I still love the moon
and this country,
even though they washed their hands of me, way before washing was the right thing to do.
How to explain
that there is enough peace
for all our pockets,
but
We will need more than we are admitting,
and peace will not chase us.
We must search for it.
.
.
.
Wasn't going to post this because it's wonky and unfinished, but in the interest of AprilCheerPepper-ness, here was something on my mind today.
