fragile

I rearrange my words so carefully in

a world imploding violently

Like all of humanity

is made of glass.

Fragile.

Only we can’t see through

to each other’s hearts.

Our lives echo words spoke long ago

by Pilate, who gave the crowd a show –

what is truth?

He asked.

So many of us do not know.

And we are fragile.

I rest my gaze

and cry.

How many truths have you known

that have been a lie?

What is it that you want to find?

If I tell you I’ve found it

will you turn a blind eye?

We can’t see through

to each other’s hearts.

Please see through

to mine.

Because I had a dream you spoke my name

like you were ready for your chains to break.

That the burden you carried

was too much to take.

But I woke up

and here you are.

Still.

Fragile.

Why is freedom so hard to sell?

I need you to hear me

I need you to tell.

I rearrange my words so carefully

only trying to get you to see –

there’s a house built on stone that’s not easily shaken

it weathers the storms and cannot be taken.

There’s truth that exists

you know nothing about

in this world that is busy imploding itself.

Truth has come

Truth is free

And although it was mocked

as it clung to the tree,

Truth is not

fragile.


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