Monday, March 13, 2017

born to be healers

this is war

razor tongues
strike at every angle
mouths spit
poison darts
scorched earth ruins
black winds 
fill throats

so thick
we can't see each other
or ourselves
nor the knives we are holding
to each others throats
ready to rip out voices
ready to rip out hearts
with words we deploy
sharp instruments
cut deep

we are brawlers
mud slingers
rabid and raging
feeding on anger
addicted to our
own venom
we swallow
we dispense
we kill
we are killed

you fight the ones
you call monsters
they are poised to do
the same
to you

we all fight the other

blood and guts
no glory

the coldest war
is the one where we
lose each other

the one that hardens our hearts
and steals peace from our very lips

words once spoken can never be retrieved

here are all the people
living with shrapnel
buried so deep

each heart
there bleeding at your doorstep

touch another wounded one
wash the cut
apply the poultice
put peace back on deserted lips

we all know how

we may be trained as warriors
and battles will be fought

the world may make us monsters

but we were born
to be healers

in the end
let us remember ourselves