Mountain Tops To Rivers

Winter: cold and numb.

My heart beating like a quiet drum.

Manipulation at the highest mountain peak,

Unallowing for me to speak.

The thin air swallowing my voice into the snowy oblivion,

freezing me to my very core.

How could country of such strong nationality and pride strip us down to the numbing of our senses?

Our bodies touching.

Constrained together by the silence that surrounds us.

No one says no and no one says yes.

Submission is the given consent.

Why do we love when it is not reciprocated?

Why does this idea of love drive us to the point of insanity?

Where no one else is tortured.

No one else loses.

No one else is willing to sacrifice their entirety.

This happens to no one else.

So why did it happen to you?

The icy cold of winters past drips away from the frozen tundra,

Making way for the bases of new life.

Sisters, not in blood but by bond break through and embrace.

The silence of winter is gone.

Now let us rejoice in Spring.

We are reborn.

We are scarred and tarnished.

Our souls tender towards the welcoming.

We are brave.

We are fighters.

We are the glorious rose that sits upon the protective thorn.

A shell that hides the creature within.

Protection turns into passionate desire to want to be accepted with all our rags and bruises included.

The welcoming of spring.

New growth and rings.

Smiles and cheers. We are accepted here.

Our stories of old make the strong stories of new.

Never forgotten but never a threat.

Sanctuary in new arms, new smiles, and new cheers.

These are for the survivors.

These are for you.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country

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