the opposite of a home is nowhere
nowhere is hell
hell is the pain of being forgotten, of forgetting
forgetting cannot stop feeling, feeling digs deep, springing
feeling is remembering, not understanding
seeing, knowing, looking, straining
tearing eyes from eyes, escaping, escaping
from hell i run
i run from the black hole, hopelessness swallowing me
just a town, just a building, a camp, an empty space
just a face, a face, a face, a face in the mirror
those eyes peering from behind black bars
those voices lifting in a desperate swan song
those knees crumbling, hearts shutting down
bullet echo vestiges across frozen ground
closed doors. closed doors. closed doors. closed doors.
expanding to accommodate the enormity is too much
too much overflowing, spilling down my chest
the chest of drawers filled with the belongings of children
children who became adults and made choices, and didn't
children deserving of a world better than the one we make
the capacity for hatred and compassion distilled
until one drop of each enough to save or kill
this is war this is every day war this is every test not every test war day this is a plan
could not steel myself enough against its massive, pressing frame
each step along the plain where the slain lay emaciated
the lie emblazoned in iron on the horizon
WORK WILL MAKE YOU FREE
to zion where is zion
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