Heavy and Cold

Free verse / Prose poem

Who are we? she asked herself,
Who are we?

Are we the gum stuck to our shoes?
Is it about who is better and what is worse —

Is it the color of my sheets or the tone of your skin
Am I these brown eyes
My blue, brown, red, blonde hair.

Am I the past I’ve now thrown away —
Or is that all left behind, a frozen display
Are we the Earth? The cold, hard ground.

Am I you, but only as I see?
Or, am I nothing —
Does that make me free.

Are we the satisfaction as it seeps past our skin?
Am I loneliness, begging not to be alone
Or are we the confusion —
Surrounded every night.

The bold, deaf feelings — heavy and cold. The weight of our bones as we grow fragile and old. Back to the place we’ve sought this whole time — hoping for guidance — circle or line. If you stop, you surely will find — the search is over — it never begun. What wonder to realize the war need not be won. So what is the point in fighting it all? You fight what you search so your walk turns to crawl. And just when you think you’ve discovered the truth — you reach in your belly to find you’re not so astute. For really — yes really — though it hurts badly this time — you know the answer is not in your mind. You’ve gone all this way — from your death back to birth — to find your hands sunken in — clutching the dirt.

As always, thank you for reading!

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